


Fire, Ice and the Kraken

by Mathen57



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Fate/Grand Order, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Fantasy, Female Protagonist, First time writing, Vengeful and Lost Protag, starts at season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-08 08:57:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 35
Words: 79,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21473404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mathen57/pseuds/Mathen57
Summary: Was it a cosmic coincidence? Or the schemes of a god?It matters not, The Dragon Witch needn't concern herself with such meaningless questions.Now in a world where magic has long been dead, where Dragons take to the sky and humanity is threatened by an eternal winter. Where will the defiler of Orleans go in this troubled fleeting existence of hers? What will she do when the world unravels itself? When it is falling apart.Crossover of FGO and GOT:Where Jeanne D'arc Alter finds herself in the world of Ice and Fire after the battle in Solomon's temple.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo readers. Right now I've been posting a quest (A choose your own adventure for those who don't know) in the Sufficient Velocity forums and wanted to paste this story onto other websites. If you guys want to participate on my quest copy paste the link here: threads/fire-ice-and-the-kraken-fate-x-asoiaf-jalter-quest.54985/#post-12463114
> 
> Consider this a story only thread for the quest, all interactive elements are on the other site, I've only copy and pasted my updates here. Oh and I'll also copy and paste my author's notes from SV to this section here:
> 
> QM Note: Hey SV! Longtime lurker here with a Jalter Character quest. Creating this quest was a spur of the moment thing and so I'm new with the whole "being a QM" gig and writing stories in general; I am also not as well versed in the lore of both Fate and Ice and Fire as I would like to be, so do please temper your expectations. I'll be basing my setting in the TV Adaptation of Game of Thrones rather than the books (though I may incorporate some elements of the book to this quest if it fits), though I will also use the wiki as a source of info too. Updates will be irregular, depending on my motivation and circumstances. Anyways let's get on with this quest!

The year is 2018 and humanity faces incineration. The fate of the species now depends on a single organization, the Organization for the Preservation of Human Order, dubbed Chaldea. Through the Guardian Heroic Spirit Summoning System or "FATE", as it is called, the organization utilizes mythological and historical figures to aid them in their quest for survival. Men and Women who have left their mark in human history now come to save the present.

Their mission? To prevent a being of godly powers from rewriting human history and creating a new world over the old. He does this by inserting Holy Grails into specific instances of human history. Thus, a singularity is born, an abnormality in man's story that would lead to the incineration of the present if left unchecked.

The summoned heroic spirits, called servants, travel back in time to these instances to fetch these Holy Grails and resolve these singularities, so that mankind can see another tomorrow.

Now in the eve of their victory or their defeat, Chaldea fights one final battle to prevent extinction.

But this quest is not about Chaldea's mission to save humanity, but of one errant soul who should not be able to exist. A vengeful spirit of a woman who was not at all vengeful in life, made by a grieving monster who couldn't let go.

...

You are nothing but a fake. A fictional villainess made real by the desires of a lunatic. A child killing, sodomising, heretical lunatic that deserved every bit of pain he received. Worst of all, it was that same lunatic who stayed close by your side till the end, only...he wasn't there till the end was he? was it a he?

Your mind's all fuzzy, somethings wrong. You try to recall your most recent memory, only to come up with nothing; remembering only the hate and regret of the distant past. The vile moments of THAT WAR from a life you've never truly lead are the only memories you can recall, and they accompany you in this hazy state. The more you try to think the lighter your head feels.

"uuggghhh"

You take a deep breath then the world around you becomes sharper, the blur in your vision gradually disappearing as if someone wiped away the fog from your glasses (are you even wearing glasses?).

The first thing you see were the stars in the sky. Were they ever so bright? So close? Shining so brilliantly that it reminds you of...of that woman. You feel your blood boil and the fire in your soul growing into a blaze. The hate drives you, ignites you, allowing the rest of your mind to be roused from a deep sleep

Your thoughts are much clearer now, and your memories are coming back to you, though only in incoherent fragments

Solomon...demon...trash heap

The synapses in your neurons finally propagate some impulse, and you feel the ground you were laying on. Its texture fills you with disgust. You feel fleshy tendrils around your exposed back, and your feet are trapped below some stone rubble. You realise that you're missing parts of your armour, making you feel naked and exposed.

"what the fuck just happened?"

You will your hands upwards only to see one rise up. A glance to your left shows that you're missing an entire arm and you began to notice the massive puddle of blood spread around your left side. You don't feel much pain, just numbness; it seems all of your senses haven't returned to working order yet. What other parts of your body are you missing? So you lift your head to discover the extent of the damage.

Immediately you feel your movement is restricted as sharp pains appeared all around your chest. Gritting your teeth you raise your head despite it, only to see 3 obsidian spears jutting out of your stomach caked with your blood. Their design has a sort of familiarity to you that comes from the constant sight of it as if you've used those spears regularly...

They're part of my noble phantasm! You realise.

But how did you get stabbed by it? Images of being shoved into the area you've cast your Noble Phantasm on by some cephalopod looking thing appears in your mind.

so that's how...

A-HAH, it's all coming back to you, Solomon, Demon Gods, and the trash heap, You're in the time temple and from what You could remember you were fighting the demon pillar Andromalus. You remember the satisfaction you felt burning its disgusting flesh in cinders.

Edmond, Shirou, Brynhildr...they were with you in that fight too. Did they leave you? Saw you as some deadweight and thought they were better off with HER.

You're starting to get irate now, but you feel something come up your throat before coughing out blood.

oh

You're dying

You're dying, and no one's here to see it

You're dying, and no one will ever mourn for you

Why did you even come here in the first place? It's not like-

BOOOOM

\- you feel a tremor in the ground you're laying on. Then a few more, before the entire world explodes. Debris begins to fall in the hundreds; this world is crumbling, falling apart, the end of a singularity. The star above you brightens as your vision becomes saturated with white.

...

Consciousness comes back to you like a crashing freight train. A sudden intake of breath, eyes wide open, chest heaving upwards. It's peaceful here, the only sounds present are the swaying of grass and your laboured breathing. You feel whole again and flex your previously dismembered left arm. The haze from before is gone, and you can think and remember clearly. It seems that you were revived from your dying state.

The faint sounds of galloping horses and the shouts of their riders inform you that you're not alone, and where there are horseriders, there is civilisation.

This land around you must be a new singularity, another deviation in humanity's past. A servant's existence cannot persist without the grail. Therefore there must be a grail in this era because why else are you still living and breathing at this moment. The Human Order Foundation is again threatened, and the Grand Order has not finished. Chaldea might come. How exciting.

You rise, pushing aside the tuft of tall grass around you. You look around only the see a sea of tall grass swaying with the wind. Each gust of wind bends the grass in a way to make it look like waves in the ocean.

You hear the sound of galloping come closer to you. You look towards to where the sound was coming from to see 2 dark specks approach you. You squint your eyes the to see horses and its riders; 2 tan half-naked men sit atop the horses, showing off their arms and torsos to the rest of the world. The one to the left is skinny but tall and darker than the other; he wields a curved sickle-like blade, a Kopesh from the looks of it, with his right arm. The other is much shorter but has more mass in his muscles and has lighter skin. He too wields the same weapon.

They'll approach you any second now, well its time to make your first impression with the natives of this era.

[] Burn them, you should be able to in your reinvigorated state

[] Ask them for directions and a general description of the area.

[X] Summon your sword to your side and look at them menacingly

[] write in_


	2. Prologue 1-1

Prologue1-1

Fire spreads out of your hand as it forms the grip of Saint Catherine, that ceremonial sword you barely used, a weapon the other you have never swung. It was meant to just be a symbol of your authority during your days in the army, for now, it'll be used to hopefully dissuade those horseriders from any act of malice.

The riders immediately stop their tracks at the outburst of flame, seemingly startled. They regained their composure and trod their horses towards you at a much sedate pace, 'kopesh' at the ready.

As they approach you, you begin to notice several details you've missed before. The darker one to the left has several sheaths around his waist, possibly for daggers, and you see his young features: a stubble for a beard, big eyes, and lean arms shows that he may be around the ages of 15 to 16, barely a man. You notice that his eyes are glued to your womanly assets as you suppress a deep sigh.

The one to your right seems like the least armed of the two but has the most decoration. Gold plates are strewn around his waist, each plate depicting some sort of religious iconography you think. You're not sure; a closer look would give you a definitive answer. He has both his beard and his hair braided and has sharp eyes — definitely the elder of the two. But your mind is still stuck on the fact that there are golden plates around his waist. Maybe they're some sort of looters who pillage villages and kidnaps women. But villages usually don't have golden plates they're too poor to afford them for decoration, no...only cities do. They're not wearing any heraldry or indication of whatever army they're apart of. Are they nomads then? Well, the only instances a nomadic horse tribe that ever could sack cities was...

was either Atilla or Genghis Khan

That can't be right; they don't look like -

A grunt from the left rider interrupts your thoughts. You look at him, and he is positively blushing . "sigh."

You narrow your eyes and look imperiously at him whilst getting into a high stance with your sword pointing towards the rider. Challenging him to do his worst, so he'll find out why that would be the worst mistake of his short life.

He speaks to you in askance, "Westorosi?"

Ah, he's asking where you're from though you've never heard of a "westorosi."

You reply accordingly, " Les Francais."

They look at you with a blank stare then looked at each other in askance.

Well, you're not surprised.

The right rider shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head when the left rider gave him an inquisitive look.

" Kisha Jif jinak zasqa noreth vikeesi Khal Forzo, athtihar athzhokwazar ki mae." The left one said with an anticipatory tone.

You're left confused, shouldn't the grail have given you knowledge of the languages in this era?

The rider to the right speaks "Haf" his booming voice commands," Athtihar kirekosi anna mae vov. Anna lajak "

This gets a snort from the left rider, " Anna vo lajak" he points at you, "Athtihar qisi "

The rider to the right scowls, "Yeri toki rakh".

The left one jumps from his horse and twirls his Kopesh at you, cutting some of the tall grass.

well if its a fight he wants..

[] Burn him  
[X] Use your fist, teach him humility  
[] Make it quick, use your sword.  
[] Try to negotiate? write in...  
[] Write-in.


	3. Prologue 1-2

Prologue 1-2

You drop your sword to the ground, giving him a mocking grin whilst you get into fighting stance. Feet shoulders apart, right foot in front, and both Hands up.

The older rider speaks up seemingly chastising the younger boy, "Laz't yer tihat toki rakh? mae tihikh yer ven jin haj rakh"

Your opponent seems to get agitated; it seems your dismissal of his strength by dropping your sword is getting to him.

Good, he'll be sloppy

Then slowly he approaches you, brandishing his Kopesh and twirling it around. He's better off being a performer, not a fighter. You tense your body up for an attack, and you can't help but grin.

He is only human, and you're a servant, an existence that is much more powerful. You are the manifestation of a hero (albeit its twisted form), and he is but a grunt.

Men like him might be fast against other opponents but to a servant? He may as well be a snail.

His Kopesh-looking weapon slashes at you, but you see it from a mile away. You've fought monsters, You've fought demons, and went toe-to-toe against great heroes; whats another grunt to you?

You duck mid-swing in an exaggerated way whilst you grin, further fueling his anger and embarrassment. He uses the momentum of his swing to go for an overhead slash hoping to slice at your head; he didn't even cut a single hair. You sidestep from his attack which catches him off guard, was I too fast for you, and he flails his Kopesh to your general direction all the while cutting off the tall grass around you.

It would've made for a good picture at least, two warriors fighting in a sea of grass at sunset, your silhouettes dancing with each other as tall grass after tall grass are cut down during the fighting. If only he were good.

You start to grow bored playing with him, your dodging and weaving have brought him to a state of utter rage now, he shouts after each swing. His rage would've led to a good fight if he was a berserker, not a mundane human. You stop dodging and stand perfectly straight. You've got a good idea of how sharp his Kopesh is, and you allow him to hit your arm-piece with it. The weapon hits you at the forearm, but it didn't even penetrate the armour. He freezes in petrifying shock.

You know he won't understand you, but you take the time to say the obvious anyway.

"You're an idiot, an overeager idiot" You bring out your most patronising and condescending voice for him to hear, at least he'll understand that.

You can see him sweat furiously and his legs start to shake though you could see the incomprehension on his face.

"But you're young, So I'll just give you this lesson rather than kill you", you stare balefully at him, your smile and narrow eyes promising him pain. " I'm a generous teacher, but a teacher still needs to get paid. So for payment well..."

Still smiling, you grasp his Kopesh holding arm and squeeze. He screams as his grip slackens, and the Kopesh falls. Then you grasp him by the neck with your armoured glove as you lift him, up above the tall grass.

The younger rider regains his composure but just barely, in a pleading tone he speaks, "tat vo nakho anna qafat! anha ki toki qafat tiholat!"

He's probably asking you to spare his life, oh what a wuss it'll only hurt a bit.

A single gut punch shuts him up as he struggles for breath, gasping deeply for air. Eventually, he passes out as you drop him to the ground landing with a thud.

"You good fight" The baritone voice of the older rider reminds you of his existence. The elder rider looked at the passed out body of the younger one and spits at him. "He dumb boy, want please Khal Forzo with you". he points at you

huh...so they can speak broken English?

This just creates more question on what era you've appeared on but from what you're surmising, the boy wanted to give you to his tribe chief to please him and so you could bear his children? You snort derisively at that.

"Well if he isn't hopeless he'll learn his lesson."

The older rider gives you an approving look, "Hopeless die."

You chuckle and grabbed from the ground and held it casually.

A silence has set in between you two as the older rider eyes your black sword.

What to do...

[] Ask the man how he's learned to speak English.  
[] Ask him where the nearest city is.  
[] Ask the rider if you could take the boy's horse  
[X] Come with him to wherever he's going  
[]Write in_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QM Note: Yeah Jeanne is really powerful in this world and the other 2 servants too. I don't really have much of the overarching goals for the other servants realized yet, but you won't be meeting them in a long time . Unless you go directly to Westeros of course but you've still gotta find them.
> 
> After some reflection I realize my writing can be a bit stiff and Unnecessarily wordy so Feedback is much appreciated!


	4. Prologue 1-3

Prologue 1-3 

After the trading of gestures and broken sentences, He finally realizes that you want to go with him to wherever he came from. He looks at you in silence and gives you a long pause, the wind swaying his braided beard during the setting sun. Eventually, he nods in assent and drops down off his horse to grab the young boy's body. He hefts the young boy up, supporting the unconscious kid with his shoulder before putting him at the back of his horse. The elder rider jumps up to his horse and proceeds to support the kid with his back to keep him from falling.

The young kid's horse is left vacant as you look to the elder rider in askance. He grunts and shakes his head and proceeded to bring his horse near the young kid's and grasp its reins. He now directs two horses whilst supporting the weight of a passed out kid, it paints a surreal picture to be sure but you've seen weirder.

He gently trods his horse to some direction as the young kid's horse follows, you jog up to his side as the armour at your arms and legs clink at your every step. The wind freezes you as the feeling of cold spreads throughout your body. You look down and you realize that you should probably manifest your old armour soon, either the one with or without the cape you're not sure, you just want to cover up. Maybe you should manifest that armour when you have your own privacy or maybe when he isn't looking, but even then he'd probably ask about it when he looks back at you. Speaking of manifesting, he seems to be looking just straight ahead, and whilst you have the chance you manifest a sheath for out of his sight and insert the holy sword there. Hopefully, he has never noticed that you didn't have a sheath with you this entire time.

You absolutely have no idea about the state of Magecraft and Magi in this era and you'd rather not flaunt your servant power right now, not until you know more. Which is a strange new feeling, different than your time in the French singularity. Back then you had an idea of who was who and what was what, and you were given the tools to bring it all down thanks to that madman. You've burned all those sycophants in Orleans, Conquered Paris in a day, and the feeling you had burning that damn bishop...Oh yes! His screams still haunt your dreams in the most pleasant way. it's a shame Chaldea had to reset it all for the Grand Order, double shame that you had to fight HER.

sigh If only you had the grail right now, you could summon those dragons again, and maybe even Fafnir, how glorious would that be? how fun? The elder rider grunts at your direction interrupting your blissful reminiscence.

"yer hash...not Westorosi?" He asks

"No, French" You respond

The man scrunches his face up, clearly thinking very hard

"What...is...Fur-ren-cha" you can hear each syllable spoken was given a lot of thought.

"A country" You leave it at that

"Country...ah! Rhaesh, Country is Rhaesh"

"If you say so..." He grunts deeply. "say" He turns his head towards you, " who taught you to speak English?"

"Eeng-gul-lish?"

You make a gesture of words coming out of your mouth, "You know, the language I'm speaking and the one you're attempting speak. "

"Oh, Kommon Tang?"

Common Tongue? Is that what English is called here? "sigh" And just when you thought you wouldn't be more confused about this era...

"Yes common tongue" you say exasperated

"Khal Forzo Nayat teach me" He says, ignoring your tired tone.

Hmm, So this Khal Forzo, who is likely to be his tribe chief, taught him. Is Nayat a last name for his people or does it mean something else like a scribe or an educated man?

"Oh? why is that?" You ask.

"I am Ko" He grins as if being a Ko is a matter of pride.

"What's a Ko "

"Ko Is uhh... Jin shillat akkelenak fin lajat ha Khal" He speaks louder this time after a moment of hesitation.

A short pause settles and you can't really comprehend what he's saying despite the emotions he's putting behind his words.

"Nevermind" You say. He nods at your response and proceeds to look forward, Night has set in and the stars shine bright. Though there's something strange about the arrangement of the stars that you can't really put your finger on. The night sky still looks beautiful and there isn't much sound to distract from your observation.

You look to the elder rider to your side and speak, "You know, I've never asked you where you're from"

"Where I from?" He rubs his nose as he says it and narrows his eyes.

"Yes"

"Where I from? I from Dothraki' He puts at fist at his chest with a fist as he says this.

You quirk an eyebrow at that, Dothraki he says, Can't say I've ever heard a horsetribe be named that.

You ask him again, "and what are Dothraki?"

"Dothraki...ride horse..."

"...and what do you call that weapon, a Kopesh?" You point at his curved blade

" ah no no no" He shakes his head and spins the sickle-like-weapon with his fingers, he then stops and points it at you, "Arakh" he says, before swinging the weapon around, slashing at imagined enemies. Each swing creates a fwup sound as his performance goes on for a bit before stopping.

You've been walking, he's been trodding, for a while now. The moon is right above you and there are no sounds, 'cept for the clopping of horses in the dead of night.

You start to see something ahead of you, as you focus your eyes, you see large circle huts dot the area with only torches lighting them up. About 4-5 men holding torches patrol the area, some of em seem to be in conversation with one another. And at the centre of this gathering of huts is a hut that dwarves the rest of them. Larger and taller than all the other huts, this might be where this tribe chief is.

Eventually, you're within throwing distance of the largest hut as the elder rider exclaims his arrival.

"Anha'm tat tihat anna qoy anni qoy!"

The torchbearers scramble to your direction, you spot one of them go to the central hut as everyone else gets nearer to you. The elder rider drops down and grabs the unconscious boy with him, one of the torchbearers goes towards the rider as the rider just throws the boy at him. The torchbearer brings the Lanky Kid into a fireman carry and sprints to the hut closest to the central one. Then the rest of the torchbearer's circles around you with their Arakhs pointed towards you. The moment becomes tense as everyone is silent, Then the elder rider shouts at them and they disperse, clearly he's got some authority here. You move on with your companion unmolested and he guides you to the central Hut.

The Hut itself is quite plain, mainly comprised of some brown leather. But the man who comes out of that hat is the opposite of plain. He has quite the massive body, one may call it fat, but he doesn't walk nor stand like a person who never had exercised in months. He seems fit for a person of his stature, you can see some defined muscle tone on him despite the seemingly chubby exterior. He's taller than you, at least by a head, and he's got a braided beard just like your companion here only longer. His hair too is braided and longer too, You're guessing that the more the braids, the stronger the man in this 'Dothraki' culture. His nose is huge and thick whilst his eyes are narrow and menacing.

Which is contrasted by the warm smile you see upon his face.

He speaks in a voice much higher and raspy than your companion and hugs him tightly.

" Qoy anni qoy, anha davra ha yeri tikh jadat irge" He speaks warmly and happily

Your companion reciprocates his hug, "Anha tikh vo tikh elat rek dik qoy anni qoy", He says

You're starting to feel left out in all of this. Maybe you should really learn the language sometime.

They both de-attach themselves from each other as the Chief looks at you quite intensely. He looks back at the elderly rider, " jin nayat ajjin fin tat jin mem?" He asks him.

Your companion nods, "sek, akka mae's jin davra lajat ale, fichat yeri nayat here, mae disse stat common"

The chief shouts, "Laenesha!", immediately you hear someone scrambling out of the tent. The women that came out of the tent doesn't look like the copper-skinned riders around this gathering of huts. In fact, she's pretty light skinned with Caucasian features and has a pretty plain face to look at. A pointy nose that bends upwards, somewhat big eyes, and raven black hair; You guess she can be considered exotic around these parts.

The massive chief whispers something softly to the woman, she nods in assent and looks at you.

Her voice is levelled and sounds light and soft as if she was some delicate flower.

"Greetings Wanderer," She says.

Finally, someone, I could understand

"You are at the presence of the great Khal Forzo son of Lavakho, do show him the respect and dignity that he deserves"

He speaks softly to the lady again, "Khal Forzo is stunned by your beauty oh ethereal wanderer, he allows you the honour of being his concubine - no - Khaleesi, wife"

"Do I have any say in this?" You ask exasperated, this is starting to get quite irritating and you think up a hundred scenarios to kill this chief in front of you.

" Why would you deny it? The position of Khaleesi is a great position to be in his Khalasar, It is known"

" But What if I deny him?"

The woman looks at the chief and tells him something in that enigmatic 'Dothraki' language. The chief tells her something else, his voice firm and almost loud.

The woman finally looks at you and says, "Then he will have his men enslave you ".

That does it now, "Well..." You slowly walk forward towards the presumed chief. He looks at you with intensity, as if daring you to strike at him. " Tell this Khal Forzo that if he or any of his men try to touch me or force themselves onto me I will personally burn this entire shithole of a tribe. I'll burn every woman and child, impale every man here" You pause for a bit, letting your words sink in the translator's head. You then adopt a twisted ear to ear grin as you kept advancing towards the chief, " and I'll leave you to die last so I could watch you die a slow painful death as the maggots and flies desecrate your body".

You realize that you've drawn a crowd, 6 of these copper-skinned Dothraki men hold their Arakhs to themselves and watch your every move.

Khal Forzo doesn't break your sight as he speaks in a low voice. "hash..."

The lady relays it back, "that is quite the bold statement"

You respond, "One I'm willing to back"

The woman relays what you said to Khal Forzo, Forzo speaks a single word deeply and threateningly, "qosarvenikh..."

The Woman looks at you right at your sickly yellow eyes, "The Great Khal wants you to prove it"

[] Use your sword to dispatch the Dothraki men surrounding you.  
[X] Summon your great lance and sweep the area  
[] Burn them all, you wonder how prone grasslands are to wildfires.  
[]Write in...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QM Note: oof, this one was a doozy. Dialogue and character interactions are quite hard to do and easy to mess up.


	5. Prologue 1-4

Prologue 1-4

Are all of these Dothraki as stupid as the young kid you fought? It's a wonder that they're able to face cities when their leaders, these Khals, act so greedily and shortsightedly. If this Forzo wanted you as a concubine, couldn't he just wait a bit? It's much more sensible to give a wanderer food and a roof to sleep under then bring up the question rather than demand them outright though you would've denied it anyway. What a crappy first impression you're having of them.

You notice six different Arakhs just touching your throat ready to slice you up, the Dothraki companion of yours grabs this Khal Forzo by the shoulder, he says something in what seems like a warning, Forzo just pushes him aside and snorts derisively.

"Yer astat mae davra vosma mae disse lajat losha, mae vo haj. Tihat mae lajat zhinda Dothraki qoy sajak akka kisha tihat fin mae davra " He says pompously, "Arrek ishish mae ishish worth kishi kashi".

Guess that's your cue to give em a show. The Arakhs at your throat puts you in a tricky situation, dodge to the right and that's your throat sliced, Dodging left would've had the same outcome. So you do what you always do when you're in a bad situation, a situation so bad that there's nowhere else to go but up.

FWOOM

You jump as high as the central hut leaving them dumbfounded and staggered. You feel parts of your body's been scratched by the Arakhs, but they are what they are, just scratches. You land away from the staggered circle of the six confused Dothrakis. You slowly stand up, back ramrod straight, arms crossed and chin up. They stare dumbfounded at your imperious form.

The Dothrakis gain their composure back as they're reinforced by some more of their men, most likely brought here because of the commotion. The group now numbers around 13 men they have an assortment of arms with them. You see men wielding whips, Bolas, and those ubiquitous Arakhs. They slowly approach you, stances low and ready to pounce.

You will your main weapon to manifest as fire ignites out of your wrist to form a ludicrous lance twice your height. The flag of your sigil sways proudly in the night wind with the vague visage of a dragon's form sewn into the centre of the purple and white flag. Your unholy black lance causes the group to stop and pause. You drink the tense silence as you look at the faces of every confused Dothraki in the group.

You will your flag to wrap itself around your lance so it won't get in the way, this startles the group even more. There is a pregnant pause in this Dothraki camp as you see both your Companion and Forzo contemplate the impossible sight of a short girl like you holding such a massive lance.

You hope your visage and the sudden appearance of the lance would dissuade them from attacking you. Anyone can hold a sword and look menacing, but it takes a special skill to hold a massive lance comfortably and with confidence. A skill you hope they notice is within you and discourage them from conducting acts of malice upon your person.

The dam breaks, one of the riders pounce at you with his Arakh screaming.

AIIIIIIYAYAYAYA - Fwup! Scrunch!

His scream is interrupted by your swing of the lance, its shaft striking him at the chest as you hear his ribs break. He lies bonelessly to the left of the group; you could see his chest still rise up and down, indicating that he's alive.

One

Your world is suddenly saturated by the sounds of Dothraki screaming at you with fury.

A horizontal Swipe of your lance takes out three men from the group, leaving about nine men arrayed against you.

4

A Dothraki readies his whip as you notice another Dothraki about to slash your back with his Arakh. You turn around to slap his Arakh away with your free hand before jabbing him at his head. He staggers a bit, both hands covering his now crooked and bleeding nose before collapsing, reeling in pain.

5

You feel something pull at your lance as you see the Dothraki's whip wrapped around it, you suddenly feel something tie your free arm to your torso as you notice the Bola wielding Dothraki at the far back of the group. A glance to your right shows yet another Dothraki with an Arakh slashing towards you. A side step allows the Dothraki's Arakh to narrowly miss your chest and instead slice at the Bola's chains; it barely cuts but it is enough for you to free your hand, breaking the chains entirely.

So arrogant, To think they can subdue me with this, You hold the chains connected to one of the weights of the Bola and swing it at the offending Dothraki. You're too fast for him, and the weight caves his head in with a sickening crunch.

6

The Whip wielder is still attempting to pull at your lance, but it is futile, Human strength is nothing compared to that of a servant, and you're one of the stronger ones. You pull your lance towards you which sends the Whip wielder flying. You intercept his flying body by throwing the Bola at his direction. It hits him in the chest as he goes "OOF", the crunch of broken ribs fills you with delight. He drops to the ground bonelessly.

7

Two Dothraki men flank your sides as a bowman aims at your back and the Bola wielding man readies to throw again. You dodge the arrow as it hits the Bola wielding Dothraki, and proceed to twirl your lance; it's shaft hitting the flanking copper-skinned men at your sides. They both collapse as you turn to face the bowman.

10

The bowman is guarded by an Arakh wielder who's using a defensive stance, His arms are close to his body whilst his legs are spread wide and balanced. Your lance comes at his side like an arrow, but he redirects it away with the curved part of his Arakh.

schrrrring

You're impressed, but you recover quickly and use the momentum of your lance's redirection to hit the Arakh wielder with the butt of your spear. He attempts to parry it, but you're too fast, and your lance breaks his arm. His arm falls limp, and you thrust the blunt end of your Lance towards his gut, it connects, and he falls.

11

You slowly walk towards the Bowman as he scrambles to ready his bow. He releases, and the arrow flies towards you, only for you to grab it, its arrowhead almost touching your eye. The shaft of your lance hits him at the groin just for your amusement as he passes out.

12

Where is the last one you wonder? That can't be all-

Swing!

You grabbed the Arakh at the last minute, it's blade almost hitting your back, and you slowly turn to face the offending wielder.

idiot

It's the same Lanky kid from before, seems like he's woken up from unconsciousness and from the looks of it, has completely forgotten the lesson you've taught him. He stares at you not with fear, but with defiance. Though it is not the defiance, you see in men who battle against their own fate but the sort of defiance of a petulant child who's angry for not getting what he wanted.

"Yer hash...bitch, "he says, trying his best to pronounce "bitch". You're starting to fume at the insult and his smug grin. Bad first impressions indeed.

Now how are you gonna deal with this brat?

[] Burn him slowly  
[] Brutally maim and murder him in front of his tribe  
[X] Impale him with your Lance  
[] Mercy  
[] Write-in_


	6. Chapter 6

[X] Impale him with your Lance

And just in case there's any confusion, sentences in ( ) are sentences spoken by the Khals translator.

You break his Arakh with your gloved hand, metal screeching as you squeeze. He goes for a jab but you intercepted it with your wrist, you hold his fist and twist. He screams in agony before you release your grip on him and back-handing his stomach. His body flies towards the Khal. The kid's in a daze, attempting to stand up as you walk deliberately to him.

You bring your lance down and thrust, it goes through his chest with ease as he grasps the shaft of your lance. He tries to push it out, but you thrust deeper as your spear goes out of his back. His eyes widen as his blood drips out of his mouth.

You lift your lance up, carrying the boy, whilst the Khal looks at you with fury. His blood drips down, staining your flag, "I'll clean it up later". His choking sounds are a wonderful thing to hear as he attempts to speak his last words, you won't give him the honour, not when he had the chance to live. The lanky kid regains his energy for a final shout before you interrupt him with the swing of your lance. He flies fast into the central hut screaming his final words. His body creates a hole in the roof before the cacophony of falling cups and decorations fills your ear. The Khal looks visibly panicked about the state of his hut, maybe there's something precious inside it that he wants to protect? that'll teach him to look at me like that.

The woman next to him is absolutely stock still, sickly pale, with her glistening sweat dripping down her forehead. The Khal's about to run to his hut but freezes as he notices your killing intent. Walking casually to them, fearing nothing, with your bloodied lance pointed to the couple, its tip dripping blood creates a terrifying visage. A visage of a monster, a witch approaching them with vengeful anger. Your spear lifts his head up, he attempts to pull a furious look but you see through his pathetic facade. He's shaking very much.

He speaks as his woman translates, " Yer zhorre yeri , anha tikh vo force yer tat tikh jin khaleesi arrek ( You've proven your point, I won't force you to be a Khaleesi or my woman)"

"Good, I'm glad we are in agreement" You smile brilliantly before looking around the camp and pausing, you break the silence. "I would like a hut to stay then" you say imperiously " it's only fair after all the troubles your men have given me and I require rest, I'll speak to you tomorrow then?"

The woman relays this to the Khal before he responds.

"Davra, jin rakh yer nakho? yer get mae okre (Fine, the boy you killed? You get his hut.)" You see your elderly companion grimace at that. Oh right, he exists.

"No, I think not" You lift your lance higher and higher as the Khal's head goes up. "You think I'll be sleeping in the same place as that pathetic idiot worm? No, your hut shall suffice, I would want a good night's rest on an actual bed, not some hard floor."

He holds tightly the shaft of your spear, "yer vos zhorre anna tat fin yer astat, yer nakho jin loy mahrazhi vo anna khalasar ( You think you can command me? You beaten 12 men and killed one, not my entire Khalasar of 20000)"

"Yes, but I can kill you right now" He flinches at that and you left him stuttering.

He finds his carefully, "Akka fin anha allow yer remekat finne anna zhorre okre, fin et tat zhorre anna arrekoon nakho yer she yeri remekat (Even if I let you sleep at my own home, what's to keep me from killing you in your sleep)"

You hear someone scramble inside the central hut, the loud sound of moving pots and cups can be heard inside it. You see a tiny figure coming out of the hut, then your eyes lighten in realization.

well well well

"Papa," the figure says in its squeaky little voice, " kifindirgi ajjin lhozzo remekat she hut?"

Despite having the tip of your lance at his neck he manages to turn his head left and speak to the boy, "Rhamo! elat irge!" The women too shouts at the boy, " Get inside!".

You chuckle quite loudly, it gets the attention of the family in front of you. You move your lance away before you thrust it at his right knee, it goes deep and you're careful not to have the tip go through his leg. Those wounds are usually hard to cover and can lead to a huge amount of blood loss, you don't want to kill him yet, not yet. The woman shrieks as Khal Forzo falls to his uninjured knee before stumbling and falling backwards. The woman comes at his side covering that gaping wound you've made whilst your elderly companion calls for help before helping out the woman himself, directing her and giving her a piece of cloth to turn into a tourniquet. Feeling satisfied you walk towards the hut where the boy is. He looks at you petrified at what you've done, as you draw nearer you get a closer look of his appearance. He's got that woman's pointy nose and Khal Forzo's eyes and seems pre-pubescent. His head only reaches up to your waist, how fragile he seems.

huh, So they're together? And that's their child?

He seems to have gotten his nerves back and tries to make a break for it, but you grab his arm, preventing him from running away. He struggles like a feral animal kicking, scratching, and biting wherever he could, though your armour prevents any wounds from being made so you ignore it. You look to the couple across you as you see their eyes stare at you with fury and with trepidation.

"I'll be keeping your kid hostage for the night, and don't bother bringing your men to save him. I'll notice even if I'm asleep, and if anyone of yours takes a step inside I'll kill him you understand?"

The boy's screaming is silenced by your lance pointed at his neck, the couple nods in understanding. Then more Dothraki pours into the area, more men than before looking fierce and ready to fight. Khal Forzo shouts, stopping their advance as they looked silently at you, weapons at the ready.

The Khal's woman speaks, "Who are you?" She says

"Why do you ask?"

"So I know the name of the woman who took my son hostage"

you chuckle at that "huh, well I'm...

[X] Jeanne D'arc  
[] Dragon Witch  
[] Avenger  
[] You don't need to know  
[]Write in...

When you enter, the hut looks much more intricate than its exterior would've suggested, decorative silks and wools hang around its ceilings as golden cups and pots litter the ground. You look down to see a carpet with fine patterns depicting the image of a harpy, you wonder where that's from. At the centre of the room is a huge chair made of fine wood and near it are some pots with scrolls in them. interesting. But first, the kid...you turn your head to the right and is treated with the side of the child whimpering and quivering in fear. You know whatever you say will fly past him so all you do is hope he doesn't have the same stupid spirit as all the men here do and defy you. You walk to another room connected to the one you were in before and you're delighted by the sight of an actual bed. The bed is covered by leather blankets and skinned animal furs which calls to you, the idea of sleeping on it is outright seductive. There's a smaller bed near it for the kid, how convenient for it to be there, even more convenient are the Bolas in the basket placed near the entrance to this room.

Soon you find yourself chaining the boy to his bedpost and walking out the room right after. You hope he stays quiet, you need your beauty sleep after all this mess. Seriously, your first day in this era and you've encountered a dumb young kid and pissed off a horse chief who has an army of horse riders at his beck and call, you inwardly curse your E rank luck. Oh you could take on his army for sure but it'd very troublesome and you'd waste a lot of prana so you'd rather not. Speaking of prana, your stores seem to be full since you didn't expend your magical energy that much and your A+ Self-replenishment makes sure you stay at tip-top shape.

You arrive again into the central room with the huge chair and spot the pot of scrolls, now if you're lucky there might just be a map inside one of them. You pick them up one by one to find two of them to be useless. The last one you pick up is the jackpot, showing both geographical features and city locations. The map seems neglected and unused, why would it if the map was plundered by some horselord who thought it looked interesting.

Yes, you're starting to understand the lay of the land now but you're left confused. The land masses are weirdly shaped, you don't recognize them, well you can see some similarities of the Eastern continent with that of Asia minor but you're still left dumbfounded by the existence of the Western continent. What kind of continent is that? North and South America joined together? or maybe some twisted inverted version of Great Britain? You're left scratching your head. What's even more confusing is that the locations of interest are named using an English script, foreign words like Volantis and Pentos spelt by English letters. Hell, some of the cities are spelt in English too!: Kings landing, Sunspear, Storms End, what in the world?

This is gonna be a headache...

Well, once tomorrow comes you should probably "ask" some of the Dothraki on where they're headed to so you know where you truly are in this map. After that, you can plan on where to go. If you want to go that is, these Dothrakis no matter how petulant if tamed can be a dangerous force when given proper direction, not whatever whims their tribe chief has. Yes, you can see it now, the burning of cities as horsemen plunder it for gold and slaves, and with you at the head of it as your flag sways brilliantly in the open field. Striking terror at the hearts of your enemies and seeing them burn one by one would be a sight you'd be delighted to see.

But you shouldn't get ahead of yourself, of course, being the host of an army of these Dothrakis seems implausible to you right now, you need their respect and belief that you'll bring them to great glory and wealth thats the sort of people they are from your first impression. Which is made especially hard after your one-sided brawl with their men...and also by possibly crippling their "Khal" but it made you feel good so it's justified.

You come to your new bed with conflicting thoughts, where to go? what to do when you leave this shithole of a tribe? if you plan to leave at all. You contemplate as the child sobs near you.

[] The Dothraki can be controlled, you can lead them and they can be your tools for conquest as you give mankind the destruction and death that they deserve (also write how you will go about achieving control of the Dothrakis) (Warlord's route)

[X] Explore this world a bit and learn more before doing anything too drastic ( write your vote on where to go and what she needs to learn about this world, she will immediately depart to the chosen location once the Dothrakis tells her where she is.) ( Wanderer's Route)

[] Conquer one of the cities in this new world and establish your place of operations ( Conquerer's route) (Write which cities you plan on conquering and with who if anyone, then write down how you will achieve this goal. Like the wanderer route you'll depart immediately once the Dothraki tells you where you are)

[] Write in... (you can mix and match elements of the three routes or write up your own)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QM Note: Thus ends the prologue of my first quest, hopefully I did well in Jalter's characterization, treating both Game of Thrones and Fate lore with respect, and being a good QM. If not do leave a comment feedback is appreciated. This vote here is big and is subject to rewrites if the discussions gets confused or go no where.
> 
> Oh and before I forget to mention, these routes are not set in stone. You can change it midway when the circumstances allow it.
> 
> Will edit grammatical errors in my own time.
> 
> Anyways thanks for reading!


	7. Departure

Departure

No, you won't be some savage horselord leading even more savage barbarians to destroy the works of civilized men. That is why you won't stay with them for long, you'll be leaving to this Yi Ti and learn its customs and history and possibly scout out for any mages. You can't afford to be rash like last night no matter how good it felt because If the contemporary magi of this era catch wind of your existence, well it'd be very troublesome to say the least, especially if this era is during the Age of The Gods.

Well, none of that now, because right now is for sleep. You close your eyes and enter oblivion. The same kind of oblivion you experienced after the French singularity.

You dream of Fafnir.

You wake up to the smell of...wait a minute. You scramble out of your bed to inspect the source of that peculiar smell, and it is as you expected. The kid sports wet stains in his trousers and his bed is riddled with...it. With a sigh, you crouch down to the kid's bed as he looks at you innocently before quivering in fear. You raise your hand, and the kid outright shakes, fearing a beating from you. Your hand falls and splits apart the kid's chains, he looks at you dumbly as you give an unamused looked at him and point your thumb to the entrance. He scurries off, leaving you only in this room. Now that you have your privacy, you think its a good a time as any for a change.

You manifest your armour and your cape as it covers what you're previous clothing could not. Your cloak had a black and red gradient, giving the impression that it was previously burnt. Not only that but your hair shrinks to0, from ankle length to a more manageable shoulder length one. You then erase your ridiculous lance while still maintaining 's existence, the sword still tied to your waist. Now you're ready to face the world, free from the lustful stares of men...and some women. Your face transforms into a rictus of disgust as you shudder at the memory of Brynhildr's passion and push it to the furthest depths of your mind.

With that out of the way you stepped into the central room, grabbed the scroll from the pot and turn to leave. You could hear the elation of the young child right outside the hut, seems like he's reunited with his family. Well looks like its time to go, you'd steal the gold in this tent, but you don't know where to keep it, it's not like there's huge pouches in your armour.

You leave the hut to be greeted to the sight of some tens of Dothraki at the ready and at the centre is the Khal and his wife. The sun is at its Apex, it seems like you've slept till noon, how embarrassing. The Khal you see is being supported by that elderly Dothraki companion of yours, as his knee is covered by a bloodied cloth; he seems to be doing fine. He and his wife stare balefully at you whilst their son is nowhere to be seen.

"Fin jif anha tat tat get yer elat? ( What should I do to get you to leave)" The Khal says imploringly.

You respond with a grin, " I need a horse, some supplies, and for someone to tell me where the hell I am."

Forzo nods in exasperation as he calls out instructions to his Dothraki men, two of them leave the group to presumably get the things you've demanded.

The Khal gestures at the scroll you're holding, and you comply, he opens it up to reveal the map of the two continents and points at a river. This time he doesn't speak, his wife interprets for him.

" We're north of the Volaena river, and if you take a boat South, you will be at Volantis. Travel north, and you will be at Qohor while the only landmark in the east is Vaes Dothrak, home of the Dothraki."

You grimace at that, you very far from Yi Ti.

"Thanks." You say.

Then one of the Dothraki men that left earlier comes back sprinting, he says something to Khal Forzo as his woman interprets for you. "Your horse and supplies are ready Jeanne d'Arc and I hope you are cursed with a dangerous journey."

You give her a weak smile, "lady I already am cursed."

You walk to the outskirts of the camp to see a horse ready for you, it seems like they honoured their promise as you see large saddlebags made of leather skin seemingly full of supplies. The Khal must really want you gone huh...

You jump up to the saddle of the horse and hold the reins, it neighs before calming down. It's been a while since I've ridden a horse, you reminisce, not since Orleans...that siege felt like it was aeons ago, from a life you've never lead but you still remember details like it was yesterday. You could almost hear the high admiration your men gave you, it's like they're still with you, calling out to you...

"Mi..La...dy"

Wait, that's not your memory speaking its someone else. You turn your head towards the Dothraki camp to see a blonde speck coming fast at you.

Oh, what is it now?

The blonde speck goes closer, its features growing more visible. You see caucasian features on the womanly face of the lady running towards you. Her blonde hair reaches down to her back and her large brown eyes look pleadingly at you. She wears a leather rag that diminishes the beauty of what would've been a pretty woman and her hair is dishevelled.

She pants and pants as she reaches you, desperately trying to breathe in air. Once she's recovered she looks at you with a determined look and speaks with the pitch of an alto.

"Take me with you, my lady, wherever you're going must be much better than this place."

Oh so that's what this is all about, "No"

"Thank yo-what!?" She gives you an undignified and unladylike shout. " But I'm excellent in cookin-"

"You'd be deadweight" You interrupt, " I don't want to be babysitting some dumb blonde girl in the desert, besides don't you have someone here who'll miss you."

"No one will miss me, my lady, I'm just a slave who's also a handmaiden for the Khal's headmistress. "

"Even so what good are you to me?"

" I heard from the headmistress that you only speak the common tongue, I know Valyrian and Dothraki, and I can help interpret and teach you the languages in your travels."

"Well then, do you know Yi Tish?" The woman pauses, and her eyes widen.

" No, My lady, but I can learn."

"Then how usefu-"

She interrupts you with her overeager tone, it is insulting, but you'll allow it.

"Forgive me, my lady, but how are you gonna get to Yi Ti in the first place? If you take a boat in Volantis, you're going to need to know Valyrian, if you take the land route through Vaes Dothrak you're going to need to know how to speak Dothraki. My skills can help you save time in your journey and make it less troublesome. And I can fend for myself thank you very much."

"Have you ever wielded a sword? maybe even a dagger?"

"No, my lady."

"Have you ever fought someone before."

"Only with words, My lady." she says hesitantly

"Then you'll die"

"Well I'd rather die than live the life of a slave girl!" she shouts, drawing the attention of nearby Dothraki. "Comforting the men day in and day out, being at the mercy of that pervert Khal Forzo, and having his bloodriders do what they want with me isn't living at all!" My my how emotional this woman is, " I'd rather spend a day living in freedom out there than be the property of some savage horselord, please My lady, I beg of you! Take me with you!"

sigh...

What to do with the slave girl?  
[X] Take her with you, she might be worth babysitting if she could interpret and translate for you.  
[] She's dead weight and another mouth to feed. too much trouble.  
[] write in...

Which route will you take to Yi Ti?  
[] Land route through Vaes Dothrak and into the bone mountains (Guaranteed long journery (at least a year), possible chance of being harassed by some Khalasars and the mountains are fraught with danger. )

[] Sea route from Volantis into Qarth and see where to go from there, (Possible chance of pirates and bad weather, and the Kraken is out there...somewhere... medium length journey, possibly 6-5 months)

[X] Mixed Sea and Land route, Volantis to Mereen then the Bone mountains. ( Small chance of pirates and bad weather, Kraken is out there... and possible chance of meeting a certain Mother of Dragons...also dangerous mountains)

[] Write in...(I reserve the right to Veto.)


	8. Chapter 8

Well...you do require a translator, it'd certainly make this voyage much less troublesome. And well, you kinda do need a guide for this era. Hopefully, she knows much of the world around her and can teach you of the language. The woman seems to finally calm down from her outburst as you take a deep breath and give her an intense look.

"Fine," You point a finger at her, " but the moment I find you too troublesome-"

"You'll leave me for dead, I know."

"As long as you understand..." The blonde woman walks closer to you and your horse as she wipes something in her eyes. "Thank you, for freeing me" She tries to wrap her hands around your waist since your too high for her but you intercept her hands.

"Don't get familiar with me, I'm looking for a translator, not a friend."

She backs off a bit and nods, " Of course, my lady."

"And don't call me lady either, I'm not a lord, just Jeanne would do."

"Of Course, "

You offer her your hand as she grasps it and you pull her to your horse. She squeaks a bit as she lands right behind you, the horse buckles a bit at the weight added by the new passenger.

"Will the Dothraki allow you to come with me anyway." you ask her, as you feel a slight trepidation for what her answer will be.

"Of course, if they don't notice that is," You groan at that, "But even if they did, I don't think they would antagonize you more by taking your translator away from you. You've made quite the first impression among them."

Well, they've certainly given you quite the first impression too, "how so?" you ask.

"Well, the Dothraki respect power and tradition, but power most of all, last night - if what I hear is true - you defeated thirteen of them without getting hit, I heard that you didn't even break a sweat."

"What you've heard is true, I did beat 13 of their men."

" That's amazing! You know they've been giving you nicknames last night, the men call you the Silver Warrior. " She starts to speak a mile a minute. "Speaking of silver, are you perchance a Targaryen? Maybe you have some lost old Valryian blood?" She adopts a scandalized look" wait are you part of Westorosi royalty? Don't tell me you exil-"

You raise your voice to shut her up, "Back to the point, woman!" That takes the steam away from her and you soften your voice, "What's this about Dothraki and power."

"Oh sorry, you must forgive me , I tend to get a bit...focused"

" I can see that now go on" You shake the reins, and the horse starts to Gallop.

"Well you see, Dothraki respects force, its the only thing they understand. They have no notions of money, prestige, nor bloodlines, just power and only power. You gained the respect of Khal Forzo's Khalasar by beating some of his best men, and in turn, the Khalasar lost respect of Khal Forzo for not participating in the fight and getting crippled by you. "

" So this Khal Forzo seems weak to his men cause of me?" You're getting further and further away from the camp as it recedes to the horizon. No doubt this blonde woman's masters are in search of her now that she's gone for this long.

"Oh very , anyone who lets their son be taken as a hostage and have that same person who took him hostage to sleep in his own home with impunity is a man of feeble will and resolve. I doubt many will follow him now that he is crippled and can't ride a horse."

" I see", there's a prolonged silence as you contemplate. You wonder if Forzo's Khalasar will split apart into hundreds of different groups. It could destabilize the region as various leaders vie for power and glory, and lead to their own horsemen raiding pretty much everywhere to grow. Some of the new tribes will be absorbed, some destroyed, while everyone else suffers for it. How delightful, though you should endeavour to be less rash if a simple scuffle could lead to that. You look to the woman seated behind you, many more like her will either be enslaved or killed.

"What is your name?" you ask, "I never asked"

"it's Lera Stassaris, . Also, where are we headed?"

"We're going south to Volantis."

"You plan on taking a ship to Yi Ti?"

"No, I'm taking a ship to Mereen, then we go to the Bone mountains through the sand road, then we'll take a caravan to Yin itself."

" Well, the Jade sea is treacherous, but the Bone Mountains got its name for a reason you know, it dangerous."

"Yes, but at least I can kill the danger in the Bone Mountains, I can't retaliate against storms or tall waves" Not unless I reveal my powers that is.

"Well, you can kill men with ease, I can see that, but what if you go against a beast like a basilisk or something else out there. No amount of training in the world can prepare you to fight monsters."

"Then I'll kill them too" You doubt there are any beasts here at the level of Demon Pillars in this era.

She stares at you wide-eyed "You're very confident in yourself, Ms Jeanne."

"It usually comes with the strength I have" And by willing yourself into existence after months in oblivion since the French Singularity.

Lera pauses for a bit, digesting what you said"I see...so where are you from Ms Jeanne?"

Talk about a subject change, well...

[] A far away land  
[X] France, a far away land  
[] You wouldn't know, I'm from a different time ( possibility of explaining to Lera what a servant is)  
[] France, from a different time (same possibility of explaining to Lera about servants)  
[] You don't need to know  
[] Write in...

The fire crackles in front of you as Lera drops more wood on it, the flames rise higher as its warmth washes all over you. The Campfire illuminates the surrounding area as you hear the swaying of grass during this late night. The moon has reached its apex as you sit down with Lera. To your left is your Lera and behind her is your horse that is tied down to a wooden post.

Lera gulps down a leather flask as water drips onto her rags, she seals the cap after she's finished and puts it down. She sighs in contentment, "It's a good thing that you've scared Forzo into bits, the supplies in those bags" She points at the saddlebags on the horse, " Is enough to feed 3 men for a few days."

You grunt in acknowledgement as you stare into flames, your eyes reflecting its flickering form. Lera takes a deep breath next to you and speaks.

"Well, since we're going to Volantis, you wanna learn some Valyrian right?"

You nod

"Do you have any quill and paper?" she asks you.

You ask a rhetorical question "Do I look like I have any?"

Lera's cheeks burn red in embarrassment and points at something behind you, "right well, there's a stick over there, I could use it to draw on the ground".

You pass the solid stick to her, "Go ahead."

She catches the stick as you walk to her as she draws some symbols and characters.

"This here says " īlon're jāre naejot volantis"" She points with her stick, "Which says, "We're going to Volantis", īlon means we, notice the line on top of the I. That means you say this word as EEL-LON not AI-LON..."

QM note: Dice Roll : Mathen57 rolls 1d100 = 2 (Will be editted when I learn how to use )

Time passes quickly as you learn the native language...

"You see most of the Old Valryians have hair as white as yours... "

"Hmmhmm" An appealing thought comes to you. Consider this, what happens if you dam the Rhoynar river up, Leaving the rivers in Qohor and Norvos to dry up? Hypothetically, if you were Queen of Volantis, could you keep those two northern cities hostage by the threat of damming the river? Would they Supplicate and beg you not to dam the Rhoynar river as it would damn their people to starvations, would they cave in to your demands or would they find other routes for food? Lera tells you that Volantis has a massive wall made of this black stone thing and its suppose to be very strong, which means that if Qohor and Norvos retaliate the damming with a siege, it'd be ineffective. The walls are thick, and the Volantians can be fed through the open ports. Hmmm, would that work? And what is that faint sound you're hearing?

"Are you even listening?" She says petulantly, bringing you back to reality.

"huh? oh yeah..." You say dumbly

"What was I talking about, then?"

"Something-something Westeros, Lannisters, something-something."

"That was an hour ago." She says with a deadpan

You scratch the back of your head sheepishly as she pouts on the seat behind you. It's been 2 maybe 3 days since you departed from Forzo's camp, and the only constant thing from those days were the grass, the scorching sky ( why the hell are you wearing black armour!?), and Lera's babbling about this era. She doesn't even babble about things of importance, sometimes going on and on about Westerosi fashion and Marriage scandals, Oh Rhaegar did this, Rhaena did that. Aarrghh... If you were a lesser woman, you would've gone mad by day 1.

The...demon sighs then speaks again, " Then let me start over, do you know why it's such a special thing, your white hair?"

"Oh, do tell..."

" You really don't know, you lived all your life without anyone mentioning anything about your white hair?"

"Only when complimenting ..."

She adopts a blank look and pauses, "huh... well, you see, oh! have I told you about Valyria?"

"That broken subcontinent?"

"Yeah, most of their people had white hair, but almost all of them are gone ever since the doom, so nowadays only a Targaryen has white hair."

"which means some people may think I'm part of that royal family?"

"Yes, and the Targaryens have many friends and an equal amount of enemies, so I think it's best if we act cautiously among important individuals of a city, they might want to take advantage of us" You groan at that, great more trouble. " Also...why, do you want to go to Yi Ti? is it really worth the trip?"

"I want to go to Yi Ti to learn about something."

"Learn what exactly"

[]Write in...(why are you going to Yi Ti?)  
[] something...  
[X] You don't need to know

You're finally here, 5 days of enduring the heat and Lera's incessant explanations and you've finally arrived. You see Volantis in all its glory, your first city in this era and three things pop out to you. From afar you can already see the towering black walls at the centre of East Bank and the buildings surrounding its perimeter, you see The long bridge connecting the East and West banks with, and what appears to be a temple, a massive temple at that with its Pillars, Domes and Towers decorating it. Behind you, you hear Lera ooh and ahhs in amazement, so it's her first time here, huh?

You approach the walled gates leading to the East Bank part of Volantis, its time to get you a ship to sail you to Mereen. As you draw closer, you see guards scramble at the wall as the gate opens to reveal an entourage of officers and men with silk robes.

One of the men in the men approaches you, a bald, wrinkled man, who walks with a shaking gait, clearly a man of advanced age.

He speaks tremblingly and bows to you " Oh Noble lady whose veins hold that sacred holy blood of old Valyria."

You withhold a grimace as you hear Lera whisper "see" behind you.

The old man continues, " I am Malaquo Maegyr, an esteemed Triarch of this city, may you please enlighten us as to the reason of your presence?"

[X] Travelling to Mereen  
[] Just travelling  
[] Came to Volantis as merchants  
[] Came to Volantis as sellswords seeking glory  
[] Write in...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QM Note: fooey, Dialogue is a doozy. Hopefully you guys enjoyed my characterizations and the trek to Volantis. As usual, any errors will be fixed at my own time or when I get someone to beta my story posts.
> 
> I reserve the right to veto any write ins that I deem out of character or silly.


	9. Volantis I-I

Volantis I

[X] France, a far away land

Lera looks at you inquisitively, she's expecting an answer, and you should probably give her one; though how do you go about it without talking about magic or servants...hmm.

"I come from a land far far away from here Lera." You tell her, a half-truth but a harmless one, you deem.

She raises an eyebrow, somewhat unconvinced, "Then how did a girl like you from a faraway land end up here?"

"Its...", whats an effective half-truth? Victim of a shipwreck? No that wouldn't work, how about-

She interrupts you with a blank unamused look, "It's complicated?" You nod at that. She adopts a mischevious smile," Well then miss mysterious, what was the name of this faraway land?", Ah, she thinks you're lying through your teeth with this "Foreigner from a faraway land spiel". And that tone of hers annoys you.

You collect your thoughts and memories of that accursed country, who turned their back on you in your time of need, despite saving them in THEIR time of need. Thanks to being an Avenger class, you live every waking moment experiencing that burning pain again and again. No matter what you do, you'll never forget what you felt when every inch of your skin was burned, to be stoned by onlookers, and to see their hateful eyes as you scream for mercy.

You're an Avenger, you toe the line between sanity and madness solely because your existence is driven by your vengeance and the need to kill those who've wronged you. Yet here you are, in an era where you have no grudge against anyone here let alone even an acquaintance. Lera doesn't count she's a tool for you to use. So, for the first time since your manifestation, you don't feel the need to Avenge the sins done to your past self. Maybe its cause of the French Singularity or even the Counterfeit incident, you don't know, but you think that hatred, that temper the Madman gave you has been, well...tempered you guess, for lack of a better word. You're willing to tolerate more and less prone to do unspeakable things, the survival of that Dothraki tribe is a testament to that change. That's not to say you're like HER now, oh far from it, it's just, maybe that vile, destructive fire within you has dimmed a bit, after being humbled and having no outlet for it to burn in this Era, that fire may have lost a bit of its fuel.

Jeez, your mind must still be frazzled for you to go on such tangents. Maybe the battle at the Time Temple may have left a permanent effect on your mind?

"Hmm, no words, huh? It alright if you don't want to tell me oh mysterious lady." She says while winking mockingly.

You look back at the Woman speaking, sitting right behind you on your horse, her hands around your stomach to keep balance as you hold the reins. She seems to look at you expectantly, waiting for an answer. An excuse.

"I come from France." You say, Lera appears to be taken aback by your sincerity.

"Hey, what's with this change in tone? you were all" She tries to imitate the voice and as she puffs her chest and puts both hands on her hips, ""I'll leave you for dead" and "Don't be a deadweight!"".

"Well, its cause you made me remember things I didn't want to remember."

"From a simple question? My you must moodier than I thought. Is that tough exterior of yours a facade then, are you all soft in the inside?"

"Look, do you want to know about France or not?" that zips her up, sigh, what a headache for her tongue to be really loose. "Right well...France is a kingdom in a continent called Europe."

"I've never heard of nor read about this Europe, is it West of Westeros? Or beyond the lands of Asshai."

"I don't think so? " A lie, " Our maps stopped west, so maybe we're east of Asshai?"

She looks at you with amazement as her eyes light up in with wonder, what a curious girl she is, and a well-read one too come to think of it, which makes you question how she ended up a slave to Dothraki in the first place. That very woman motions you to continue, questions for another time then.

"France is... beautiful, there's this village my father took me once in Alsace, it was close to Domrémy, where I lived. I think its name was Riquewihr or something like that, but anyways, they made the sweetest white wine there, and every sip just made me go" you pucker up your lips and bring a closed at hand towards then, "Muah!" you exclaimed as you spread your previously closed wrist and brought slowly bring it down to hold the reins. Lera laughs lightly at your theatrics. " But that wasn't the only thing I loved at the time, I was young, I think I was 12 summers at the time."

"And Your father let you drink?"Lera asks in a scandalous tone

"Oh no no no" You shake your head, "I was a very sneaky child, I always find where the nooks and crannies are, and not even my Town Guard of a father knew where I was half the time."

Lera Oohs at that and you continue, "Anyways, there was this Chur-" Calm down, calm down, "temple in the middle of town, and it had this large belltower that overlooked the entire village, very beautiful, very inviting. So I did what any young girl of 12 summers would do."

"You climbed it?" she asks with a sceptical look.

"I did." You smile proudly at that. "Snuck in upstairs during mass-prayer time, and no one noticed. " You sweep your hand horizontally before raising it slowly, "Then I took the stairs and went higher and higher up the tower stairs until I ran out of stairs. So, by being either brave or stupid, little me jumped on to the rope connected to the part that made the bell ring. I held on tightly since the drop would outright shatter every part of me, and it's terrible luck having someone die during prayer. Though despite all that I wasn't even scared, I just wanted to see what was at the end of that light, what sort of thing will I see when I reached the highest peak."

"My, you must've been so brave when you were young, the thought of me doing that when I was only 12 summers is impossible to imagine," Lera says in amazement, and you let out an embarrassed chuck and adopt a sheepish smile, even now you never really did know how to deal with other people's admiration.

"Well, we have a saying in France, "À vaillant coeur rein d'impossible." it goes. It means, "For a valiant heart, nothing is impossible"" You put a fist on your chest as you say that. You notice your horse neighs and speed up when you did that, and it's the first time you notice that the Dothraki tribe have receded to the horizon and you could barely see it.

"Beautiful..." She says engrossed, Lera shakes her head to regain her composure and asks a question, "so what did you see?"

"Heaven" You slipped, and you try to withhold a grimace. Being reminded of God's empty promise always put in a sour mood but you continue, "I saw rolling hills of green, vibrant vineyards stretched across miles upon miles of land, and the forests looked so safe and inviting and very much dark green. The village seemed so small, and its people were like ants going about their insignificant business. The sight of it was etched in my mind and made me realise one thing. That us humans are so small compared to" God's, " creation, how we are all so caught with our lives that we never bother to notice how amazing the land we live on is, and how..." You pause, searching for the right words as you scrunch up your eyebrows and narrow your eyes. No matter how much you deny it, your purpose back then wasn't to destroy France, but the opposite. You cannot deny the feelings SHE had and "how...how much I wanted to protect my country so that all of France could see what I saw in that bell tower, not the sight of blood or smoke or defeat, but of beauty and wonder."

Reality brings you back from a blissful reminiscence by way of horse shit. The sound of defecation and its excrement dropping to the ground as the horse neighs interrupt you. You look back at Lera sheepishly, "Ah sorry, I've gotten on a long tangent there, it's been a while since I've thought of France with any emotions other than..." hatred, "regret" you lie to her.

"France sounds like a beautiful place." she says softly and reverently, "and you really had me there with your speech, you sure you're not some kind of Queen or commander?"

"No, I just get overly enthusiastic" You lie.

"Huh... you should take me there someday."

" I should..." You say, absently. You stare listlessly into the horizon, the sounds and visions coming back to you. The curse of being Avenger makes you remember that accursed day as if its happening right now. You don't mention to Lera that when you came back from that trip, you were treated to the sight of Domrémy in flames.

(Scene break)

[X] You don't need to know  
Number of voters: 2  
-[X] It was actually a spur-of-the-moment decision made before you realised how far away it was, and you're too stubborn to change your mind now.

"I want to go to Yi Ti to learn about something."

"Learn what exactly?"

"Well, obviously..." uhhmmm..."I wanted to know more about..." Lera looks at you, quizzically, "You don't need to know."

Lera seems unimpressed at your statement, "You mean you don't have a bigger goal other than just going to Yi Ti?"

You laugh at that, " Hah, who do you think I am Lera? of course I have big plans for Yi Ti." You just haven't thought of it yet. You can't tell Lera that you mainly Eeny-meeny-miny-moe'd you're destination on the map, and your finger just happens to land on Yi Ti.

"Jeanne, why is your face red?" Your face is definitely not red, nuh-uh.

"It's skin condition Lera, it comes from time to time."

"Right, of course." Lera she says unconvinced.

"Look all you need to know right now is that we're going to Yi Ti and that's final". It'd be very embarrassing if just change destinations midway, even more so after the whole "I'll just kill the danger" spiel.

Right, You're going to this Yi Ti, and nothing will change your mind. Nothing at all...

Though if Lera doesn't stop chuckling right now you'll burn all of Essos dammit.

(Scene break)

[x]Mereen

The old man continues, " I am Malaquo Maegyr, an esteemed Triarch of this city, may you please enlighten us as to the reason of your presence?"

"Hail, Malaquo Maegyr, I am Jeanne d'Arc, and the lady behind me is Lera Stassaris, she is my interpreter for these lands. We will take a ship to Mereen here so we won't stay for long. "

Malaquo nods to himself as his entourage whispers to each other, "Of course, of course, let it be known that the Volantis, the first daughter of Valyria, does not fail in treating its guests whose veins courses with old Valyrian blood." He claps twice as two guards come up to him, he faces them and commands, " give her the best room in the merchant house and tell them that it's under my authority and that I will pay for the expenses."

Finally, food and shelter from the get-go, and you didn't even have to fight for it.

Lera comes up closer to your ear and whispers, "Careful Jeanne, the man just wants to curry favour before the other Triarchs do."

"Is it cause of the white hair" you whisper back.

"Yes, she answers, he's probably hoping the luxurious accommodations he'll be giving will incentivise you to stay here longer. Or at least long enough for you to be a pawn of his schemes."

"Don't worry Lera, I can always burn this city to the ground to dissuade him of any notions of making me a pawn", Lera pales at what you've just said, ahh, your tongue is becoming loose like her, she's quite the bad influence.

You're escorted to what you think is the inn, though you could be fooled to thinking that its a palace of a lord, a four-story ornate building that towers over the market area. You enter in to be treated with the sight a large common room with hundreds of chairs and tables. The sound roaring sound of a hundred trade deals and business plans saturates your ear before going silent. A hundred merchants, captains, possibly pirates all stop to look at you. White of hair and dressed in black-menacing armour, you probably make for an exotic sight. You remember your experiences as a commander and walk down to the reception with the authority of a king, the men in your way step aside and bow halfway down to you. You hear them murmur, "Ābra hen Valyria" to themselves.

After being assigned a room by the receptionist, you walk three flights of stairs up to your room. Well, then you think you won't be lying when you say that walking through the brothels, slave markets, and other places of scum and villainy is worth the sight you see right now. A fountain at the centre of the room with a balcony looking out to the city. There's a huge King sized bed at the left side of the room, though you notice its the only bed there. The peach coloured bricks glisten as sunlight seeps into the windows and the balcony.

"so where to?" Lera asks.

You are currently located in the North Market.

Currently, you have 50 honours (Volantian currency) from selling your horse

You have a maximum of 5 actions in a day. Therefore you can only do 5 things to do in the vote below.  
[X] Plan Prepare for the Journey  
-[X] Look around the inn  
-[X] Find some captains who're going to Mereen  
-[X] Train Lera in the ways of combat  
-[X] Go to...  
-[X] The Warrens  
-[X] Earn some money in the fighting pits ( and possibly make a name for your self.  
-[X] Market Bridge/Bridgeton  
-[X] Buy some equipment ( Armour, weapons, supplies for you or for Lera)  
-[X] Listen to the rumours in the local tavern


	10. Volantis I-II

Volantis I-II

"Well, I'll make you less useless than you are now." You speak with an imperious tone.

"Less useless? I'm your translator!" Lera shoots back incredulously.

"And there's no use for you if you're a dead translator, you've got to learn how to defend yourself Lera. So I won't have to look after you constantly." Your interpreter opens her mouth, but you don't give her the chance to speak. She squeaks when you grab her hand and walk out of the room, "Come, Lera" you demand. You're out of the room already as the sound of sloshing water from your room's fountain gradually fades.

"Where exactly are we going?" She asks with an air of annoyance.

"Fighting pits, you're going to watch me fight while I earn the money to buy your equipment."

" Do I even have a choice? I'm just a skinny girl; I can't fight! I'll be dead seconds into one. Besides, talking is all I'm good for, and you'll waste your time training me." You've already walked down 2 flights of stairs and nearing the lobby as she says this. You stopped abruptly and turned around to meet her in the eye. You're around the same height, which is convenient. Lera trembles a bit at your piercing yellow eyes as you put your hand on her shoulder.

"Listen here Lera, I will never be with you all the time to babysit you, not when you sleep, eat, or shit" Lera's face transforms into a rictus of disgust, "You'll have to learn to be independent! And so that I won't have to keep looking after you, but that's beside the point. Lera", You say as you close the distance between your face and hers," You asked for a life of freedom, didn't you? Sooner or later, you're going to have to fight for it, and if you don't know how to fight... well, you'll just become a slave again. I don't care if you're the slowest learner or if your instincts for combat is shit, When I'm done with you, you'll be able to hold your own against Dothraki ...Besides, how can I pass through the Bone Mountains if you're gonna be a useless sack of meat for the whole journey." Not that you care for her, of course, you can always find a new translator, it's just... troublesome for you to lose yours so early into the journey. Lera nods silently, and you grin.

"you're pretty good with speeches" she murmurs

(Scene break)

You walk through the crumbling slums of the Warrens with Lera, the fighting pit you've heard is at the edge of this place of poverty, bordering Rat Town. Once you've reached the fighting pits, you're obstructed by an immense crowd all dressed in rags hollering and cheering as the sounds of clashing blades fill your ear. You push into the group, getting dirty looks, and as you reached the end of this mass of humanity you're treated with the sight of a large pit and the centre 2 fighters duelling, one holds a spear and the other holds a dagger.

You look to your left and see a couple of men in silk robes, sitting on this large bench placed in an area overlooking the entire PPit. You guess they're the ones coordinating this Pit; they look so out of place in this area of poverty and neglect you notice. One of the guards bars your way once you're within arms distance and one of the noblemen look to you with an appraising look.

"When can I fight?" you ask.

The noblemen speak as he looks back to the fight in the pits, the Spearmen is winning against the one wielding the dagger, which is no surprise at all, "You can fight now if you want." he says.

"How much will I earn?"

It takes time for the Nobleman to calculate before saying, "5 to 6 honours if you win."

You groan inwardly, you won't be getting a new sword and armour at this right, "That's too small, I want a fight that'll earn me a hundred."

The Nobleman pauses at that as the rest of the other noblemen stop to look at you, they probably think you're mad. The man nobleman you were speaking to opens then closes his mouth before finding the right words, "I've seen arrogant cocksure boys come to this ring to get slaughtered, though I've never seen a woman do it. Do you think you're invincible with that fancy sword and armour of yours? well think again, this a man's ring you're entering, not for adventurous girls like you." He makes a shooing motion with his hand, "move along" he says.

The guard moves to push you out, but you don't budge. Instead, you sweep his legs with your right feet. He trips and falls to the dirt, and as he frantically tries to get up, you crush his head with the same leg that tripped him. Blood and Gore decorates the ground he was on as his head is smashed like a watermelon, you hear Lera gasp in shock before whispering to herself, "poor man".

The noblemen LOOKS at you now, their faces in shock and fury at the sudden violence. "Give me a fight that's worth 500 hundred honours, and I'll be off", Now the noblemen stands up in indignation, shouting curses in that mysterious Valyrian language of theirs. The crowd stops to look at the commotion they're causing, and the fighting stops abruptly as both fighters look to the enraged noblemen.

They calm down eventually as one nobleman looks at you menacingly, "Oh I'll give you a fight worth 500 honours you suicidal minx, and if you lose, you'll be working for my brothel till the end of your days. If you survive, that is.."

You nod at that, smiling condescendingly, its time for a show. One of the nobles proceeds to shout, "Jiōragon pōntoma hen!" which leads to men of all shapes and sizes pouring into the Pit.

You look back to Lera in askance, she stares at the body of the guard and it takes her time to get out of her stupor. She gulps, "He said to get all of them in the pit, " You nod. You recognise that Lera must be queasy with blood, you'll have to train that queasiness out of her sometime.

"Thank you, my lords", You bow mockingly before jumping into the Pit with in hand. There are 20 men and counting pouring into the Pit, armed with an eclectic array of weapons and armour. The men stopped flowing in, increasing the count to 26 opponents. They circle you, ready to charge at a moments notice.

"Ivestragī bisa vīlībagon rhaenagon!" You hear one of the noblemen shout and they come. The excitement of a fun fight fills your veins. When you fought the Dothraki a few days back you only fought to disable; now you'll be fighting to kill. You've been restrained for far too long; now you want to vent through killing. The only thing you're holding back now is your fire magic; everything else has been set loose.

You plan to utilize your vaunted A-Rank strength to slaughter them; there will be no mercy. The closest man to you is the Spearman with a couple of men trailing him; there are a few other men to your back coming towards you. To them, you might seem like you've been put into a situation of no escape. Thus they charge with confidence and coordination, which is broken the moment you take a step...

(Scene break)

You are Vamar Nargyreon, master of the spear and consecutive champion of the Pit. The Wandering Knight is what these onlookers call you, though it must either be your full plate armour and Burgonet that gave them the impression. In reality, You're no knight, just an unfortunate man who got caught up in this Gladiator business.

You feel exasperated that stuck-up nobleman Qohinarys had to create a wasteful spectacle to teach this silver-haired woman her place. You wonder if she has the purest and oldest of Valyrian blood coursing through her veins, it'd explain the white hair and her looks. She is quite beautiful the more you look at her, her face is absolutely smooth and has no blemishes, giving her a look of ethereal beauty. Though you could do without those sickly yellow eyes... You've never met anyone who's had yellow eyes before, is that physically possible you wonder? No matter, you and your fellow fighters would give her a good beating before Qohinarys make her his whore.

You and the other fighters approach her fast; you're sure she'll be skewered in moments from now, there no defending from this coordinated charge, and as you get close, your spear impales...nothing. She's disappeared, where is she!

Shhrrkkk!

The sound comes from behind you, and you scramble to turn around. A sword sticks out from the man behind you; he drops his mace to grasp at the bloodied blade. Then the silver-haired Valyrian lifts her blade up, cutting the poor man from the sternum to the head, it brings out a shower of blood to the arena. As you sprint towards her, a man slashes at her with a halberd, and she promptly parries it, the Halberd is sent flying to the side when she hit it with her black-sword. In its flight, the Halberd impales one of the fighters as its wielder is cut down by the Silver-Haired Woman.

You look in horror as she disappears again, how fast is she?! you try to predict where she's likely to hit you until you hear the sound of blades clashing from behind. The group that was with your Dagger-wielding opponent are, to your horror, in different forms of dismemberment. The Dagger wielder looks petrified to see a hand sticking out of his chest, its wrist holding his heart. The woman closes her fist, crushing the heart as blood sprays everywhere, and the Dagger-wielder falls. The crowd is silent now.

You realise that you can't fight this woman, this monster, she is too strong and too fast, and some of the men around you have also realised that. They tremble and shake, taking slow steps backwards, moving away from the carnage in front of them.

She moves on from group to group, slaughtering them with a relaxed smile, the same sort of smile you'd see women wear when the hot bath they're in dissipates all their stress.

She walks - no glides - to an opponent, he swings his longsword for a vertical slash before the woman's sword blur. The longsword's top half falls to the ground as its bearer stares in shock; then the woman caves his head in with a punch. You hear the sound of bending steel and cracked skulls before he falls to the ground. You cringe at that.

Dead men litter the Pit as blood decorates every nook and cranny of this accursed arena. For how can it not be cursed when a monster like her made the decision to fight here, out of all other places.

You and the group of men around you are all that is left. It's strange, 10 minutes before you would've killed each other, now a sort of silent camaraderie is formed thanks to a common fear. You huddle together, weapons pointed at her and waiting for her to move.

She wipes her bloody gauntlet with the rags of one of the dead. Her cape is caked in blood and sways brilliantly. She turns towards you and your group as everyone tenses up.

She walks towards your group sword at her hand with that fucking satisfied smile of hers. Eventually, one of the men near you drops his weapons and falls to his knees with his hands at the back of his head. You and everyone else eventually follows suit, begging for mercy.

She stops at your crouched form and inspects you. She raises her sword for a cutting strike, and you feel numb. For death to come to you while you're kneeling, how pathetic, how can you call yourself a man? You recount every frustration, every errand, every loose-end in your life, and you feel despair and frustration. For your life to end now is...You breathe and close your eyes. Valar Morghulis, it was bound to come anyway.

You open your eyes and stare up; you will not die with your head down, you could do that at least. That damn black sword of hers glistens as the afternoon sun blinds you, you have to squint to look into the sickly eyes of your killer. The sword descends...

(Scene break)

"STOP" You hear Lera shout. stops a millimetre away from the gladiator's nose. You look at Lera, annoyed, as the fighters open their eyes. You walk to the side of the Arena where Lera looks over and walk to her. The crowd stares whilst you walk as the rest of the gladiators scamper back to the gates they came out off.

"Why did you want me to show mercy Lera? They're fighters; they know they'll die sooner or later."

"Because they surrendered . That should be enough for mercy."

That line makes you feel a bit annoyed. You withhold a grimace as you jump up from the arena to the spectator's area, gaining gasps from the crowd.

You place on your shoulders and walk to Lera, "You're foolish if you think you'll be given mercy when you surrender." You narrow your eyes, and Lera returns it with a look of her own, though she's trembling, she holds her ground and keeps eye contact with you. You can't help but be impressed by that, a mundane staring down a servant.

"Yes, but, I couldn't stand to see you kill men needlessly. You wanted me to watch and learn, right? And also earn us money? Well, you've already accomplished both, the Old Bloods over there have probably pissed their pants, so you could get more money from them. And I've already learned a lot by watching you fight. "

You notice the crowd have created a distance between you two, but you don't care about that. Lera's being petulant, another thing to fix when you're training her.

She speaks again, "Their deaths weren't needed."

"These were gladiators, criminals forced to fight each other for entertainment, you think they care about your bleeding heart? Do you believe your compassion would turn them to good honest men?"

"No, but at least they'll still have the chance to change. Killing them needlessly and without good reason would be a waste of the good their worth."

You can't believe it. For your translator to have a weak heart...You sigh.

"Fine if that's what you want. " You say softly, tch, "But if you stop me again..."

"I know."

You almost roll your eyes at that, "Let's go get our money."

You look towards the nobles grouped up on the bench overlooking the Pit. Their servants come to you, holding stash after stash of honours for you, as the noblemen shake in fear, wanting you gone immediately

You look towards the silent and horrified crowd around you, and you have to restrain the immediate urge to hit yourself. You weren't exactly subtle...sigh, everyone's going to hear of this.

You walk through the crowd as the part to give you space. You hear the crowd whisper, "Timpa Morghon" to themselves. You ask Lera what it that mean after you're far away from the crowd, She tells you that it says "White death". ughhh

\+ 2000 honours earned. You have a total of 2050 honours, and you'll surely become the talk of the town. Whatever magi there are in this city will surely hear of this. How troublesome...

After the fight in the Pit, you and Lera rest at the local tavern on the market bridge. The place stinks of whores, bandits, and unhygienic men, which is why this place is perfect. All sorts of people come here, and with them, stories and rumours of great variety. You're hoping that some of these rumours would hint you at any servant or magi activity, it wouldn't do for you to flaunt your servant power uninformed of the consequences of doing so.

You sit one of the enclosed booth sequestered in the corner of the tavern. No one will take notice of you here whilst you eavesdrop on the ongoing conversations. Lera orders whatever swill they have masquerading as drinks here and the barmaid leaves.

You get to work, prana moving around your spiritual body as your circuits fire up, your ears twitch a bit due to the electrical activity and the sounds of the world are made clear to you. You hear the squeaks of the rats under the floorboards, and the sounds above you are...unpleasant. After a bit of waiting you see a couple of rugged men armed with leather armour and curved swords sit down on the barstools. You focus and their dialogue is made clear to you.

Rumour roll = 1D100 = 57

"Say," one of them asks the other, "have you heard that about what old man Malaquo is doing?"

"No," the other says, his accent heavy and has a Spanish flair to you, "tell me ñuha lēkia."

"Well he seems to have picked up this silver-haired girl from out of nowhere, she's hard to miss with her black armour and cape. I heard he gave her the best rooms in the Merchant House at fishmonger square. You think he's gonna do something to her?"

"Probably if he goes that far. Though I wonder why a Triarch would take an interest at some random traveller?"

"Could be the white hair..."

"Could be."

At this point, the barmaid comes to serve you drinks, you raise your cup to Lera, and she raises hers too you, though she sports a blank look, must be thinking about something of import. You take a sip and immediately you want to throw it all out, to get this abomination out of your mouth before it infects you with its toxin. But you drink anyways, to stay inconspicuous. Why is Lera looking at you with a raised eyebrow? Are you grimacing? You better not be grimacing? Cause that would totally make you conspicuous.

"If you don't like the drink I could-"

"It's fine", you interrupt.

"are you sure?"

"yes" as you get back to drinking this piss of a drink.

"If my lady says so" You're too focused on the drink to correct Lera's way of addressing you.

There's a lapse in conversation as you attempt to hear the discussions occurring in this establishment.

Rumour Roll 1D100 = 24

And they're all either about small talk, scandals with the wives, and something very vulgar. Though you do hear something of interest happening in the Iron Islands, the man you heard it from was dead drunk and slurring his words so you can't tell, something about Krakens he says.

" My lady..." Lera addresses you; your focused hearing makes her sound like she's shouting at your ear. You come from your eavesdropping trance before looking at her. She seems quite pensive, and her body is all tensed and closed up. Her arms are crossed and rubbing each other gently as she looks downwards before meeting your eyes. "A question if you may."

"Go ahead," you say indifferently

"About what happened in the pit, do fights always end up like that?"

"Oh no no, I was having a bit of fun," You say, your attention is elsewhere, violating the privacies of the patrons here.

Lera's eyes widen a bit, "That was fun to you?" she says incredulously.

"Yeah, It was nice not restraining myself in a fight like with the Dothraki a few days back. So I consider today a sort of release."

"Jeanne...you're really, really strong." She says, emphasising every word. Bah, she doesn't know the half of it. Lera shakes her head and slaps her cheeks "I'm getting sidetracked here...where was I? oh...You know, just by being with you for the past few days, I can tell that you're a bit off."

"oh?"

"You're quite brutal sometimes, but you're also quite nice. You've treated me with care, and you've protected me these past few days. Heck, you're even taking the time to train me, which confuses me to be honest, since I have two different images of you in my head that I can't find any connection between each other. You're a robust, determined warrior who tends to be cruel, but you've also shown restraint during the fight with the Dothraki and took a slave like me in your care. At first, I thought it's because you found my translation skills to be useful, but now you're taking the time to train me and see that I survive this journey of yours. It's almost as if you care about my wellbeing, which is a totally different message I got from you when we first met."

"Get to the point Lera, don't waste my time." You wonder where she's going with this.

"You weren't always like this before, were you?"

"Like what?"

"Cruel, vicious, sadistic. You were kinder once upon a time as if there was once a version of you that didn't kill guards because they inconvenienced you, or took pleasure in killing other men forced to fight. Like, it's hard to explain, but it feels like you're trying to act like a cruel, no-nonsense killer, yet there are still parts of you that don't fit that persona. "

Troublesome, even now the vestiges of HER is still present in your core. For a mundane like Lera to see that is annoying you a bit. As if you could never forget the days when you were once a saint, parts of her still influences your decisions, which is frustrating. To think you were done with being HER.

"So, if you're willing to answer this. What horrifying thing happened to you to turn you into the person I see right now..."

[] You're too nosy for your own good, I told you before, you're a translator, not a friend. Besides we've only known each other for the past few days.  
[] War, war happened (What specific thing about the War haunts Jeanne right now?)  
[X] Betrayal (Your memories of your burning are possibly distorted, no small thanks to Gilles de Rais in his attempts to turn you into an Avenger)  
[]Write in...

(Scene break)

"He asks what he can do for us," Lera tells you.

The Storekeeper in front of you is a balding tan man, with broad shoulders, and wrinkly skin. Though he seems to have aged with grace, looking elegant despite the dirty clothes he wears.

[X] Food (1 Week/35 honours) (5 honours per days worth)  
[X] Camping equipment (includes a tent, cooking bowl and such) (20 honours)  
[X] A custom helmet to cover your white hair (price varies)  
[X] Dagger (10 Honours)  
[X] Longsword (40 Honours)  
[X] Short Spear (35 Honours)  
[X] Leather Gambeson + Leather Trousers (35 Honours)  
[X] Full Plate ( 200 honours)

-(Scene break)  
Once you've come back to the Merchant House Inn with a sack of equipment you and Lera ask around the lobby for any captains going to Mereen.

Captain Roll 1D100 = 59

Luckily you find one captain who's planning to go to Mereen, though the issue is is that most of his accommodations are full and that you may have to pay a more significant than usual sum of Honours for the rooms due to their increasing demand. You ask him if you could think about it and he nods, he tells you that his ship leaves for Mereen in 4 days and he hopes to see you there.

You and Lera leave and walk upstairs to your rooms. You look at Lera holding her sack of equipment as thoughts of how to train her comes to find. Bah, You'll figure it out as you go. You've reached the third flight of stairs before abruptly stopping. You sense something very wrong in your room. You tell Lera that you sense something is wrong and for her to keep her distance between herself and your room's door. You focus your senses before a clear image of what's going on in your room comes to you. Your eyes widen in shock before narrowing in determination. You unsheathe as you stand in front of the door, ready to fight a fatal fight. There is a servant in your room, and from the feel of it, that servant is right on your huge balcony.

What do you do?  
[] Kick the door down and Charge  
[X] Open the door slowly and talk to the servant (interrogate rather)  
[] Tell Lera to bring some guards here  
[] Write in...


	11. Volantis I-III

Volantis I-III

Troublesome, even now the vestiges of HER is still present in your core. For a mundane like Lera to see that is annoying you a bit. As if you could never forget the days when you were once a saint, parts of her still influence your decisions, which is frustrating. To think you were done with being HER.

"So, if you're willing to answer this. What horrifying thing happened to you to turn you into the person I see right now..."

[X] Betrayal (Your memories of your burning are possibly distorted, no small thanks to Gilles de Rais in his attempts to turn you into an Avenger)

You mull over Lera's words, staring intensely into your cup. It's hard to recount the events that led to your burning given that Madman wanted a vengeful version of you. You were created by his desires and the power of the Grail, so it's quite hard to distinguish which feeling are yours and which ones were created by him to turn you into an Avenger. Questions for another time you guess, right now the question you're supposed to be answering is Lera's, that nosy translator of yours. So how do you go about it? You can't just say you were turned into this by a demented sorcerer, that you were once a saint that became a villain after your death, killed and abandoned by your people. Well, maybe you could tell her of your betrayal, it's one of the things that still fuels your hate against humanity and God. You don't care that much if the Madman had a hand in making that grudge worse than it is, right now at this very moment the anger you feel is burning and raw. It threatens to break your mask of civility and turn you into the monster he wanted you to become, it's a good thing your short time in Chaldea gave you...new perspectives.

"I was betrayed, Lera." You say solemnly, swirling the cup in front of you.

"Betrayed..."

You look up to her and meet her eyes, "I was betrayed by the people I saved. Left for dead and was accused of heresy and murder." You leave it at that.

"Oh," Lera says dumbly, but your mind is too focused on the events that took place before summer of 1431 started. Maybe it's because of your nature as an Avenger or if it is because of Gilles's doing, but what happened on that May Afternoon still feels fresh. You can count precisely how many bruises you got from the rocks thrown at you, you remember the beatings you had by your captors, but most of all, you still feel that searing pain, of your flesh falling off you as you melt. You will never forgive the nobles that refused to pay your ransom, nor the false bishop who decreed your death a holy act, you'll never forgive them, you'll burn them ALL! Your mind feels a combination of sharp pains and numbness, you're starting to see red now, and you faintly hear the cup you're holding beginning to crack under pressure. Voices of condemnation fill your head until it's the only thing you hear, Lera's faint calls fails to penetrate your dazed state as the world around you distorts more and more.

Visions of the flames, the seductive thought of incinerating the world, and that great Dragon of yours: Fafnir. Oh, how easy and fun will it be just to KILL KILL KILL UNTIL THERE'S NO MORE. IT'S NOT CRUEL, RATHER IT IS JUSTICE! JUSTICE AGAINST MANKIND, THE SAME MANKIND THAT WRONGED YOU, THAT DESECRATED YOU, THAT HUMILIATED YOU! RED! RED IS ALL YOU SEE AS THE VOICES GETS LOUDER AND LOUDER. YOU WANT IT ALL TO JUST STOP, YOU'LL BURN THEM ALL TO MAKE IT STOP!

A Dragon's growl cuts your train of thought. You look up to see Fafnir's scaled form, in its hands, is a golden sphere that is about 3/4ths his enormous size. You look around you and realize that you're not in the bar anymore. Blue fluorescent tulips cover the ground around you as you look at the still night sky. This land, this world feels, familiar...You can't really put a finger on it. It's like you've been here before, giving you the weirdest sense of Deja Vu. Ah, you realize, This place must have some importance to HER it seems since YOU don't recall being here. Though why you remember it in the first place, you don't know, maybe she's been here as a heroic spirit in some Grail War? That would explain it, but you're left even more confused... Shouldn't you only remember HER memories when she was alive rather than her memories as a heroic spirit?

Fafnir draws his head closer to you, its sharp eyes and broad snout encompasses your sight. You stop thinking and stare at him. You approach him, and you can't help but to smile and rub his head soothingly. Fafnir...you feel a sort of affection for the greedy dragon, he who accepted your call to be your strength in the French Singularity. That reliable dragon that almost gave you France's destruction. You're confident he had a good fight battling one of Chaldea's servants, but you still feel guilty for failing in that Singularity. As if his death was in vain.

Though something itches at the back of your mind, a name you think, you can't recall easily. Memories of another war you never fought gradually surges into the surface, a war of red and black. There's something more to this Fafnir you realize as fragmented memories slowly seeps in. This dragon wasn't Fafnir once, was he? Ah, You think you got it, this dragon was once human you believe, in your head the name Sie-

"Jeanne!" Lera's voices snap you out of your ephemeral dream. You look at Lera's horror-stricken face, her shirt full of wet stains. You look down to the hand previously holding the cup, only to see a mess of mangled wood. A couple of the bar patrons are staring weirdly at you, but the rest go on with their conversations.

Lera appears to have calmed down once she notices you looking around the bar. "You had me scared ," She tells you, exasperation marked on her face, "You're eyes looked glazed, real glassy like and you weren't responding at all. I didn't know asking about about such an event would bring such a reaction." She bows down on her seat, "Please forgive me! I was being inconsiderate."

"It's alright", you finally speak, your voice is soft, and your head feels light. " There's no need for an apology. "

Lera seems unconvinced, " Betrayal can do many things to a person, for me to remind you of it, is wrong of me..."

"It's alright," you say again. An awkward silence sets and both of you eventually leave the bar.

(Scene break)

" So Lera, what kind of fighter do you think yourself as?" You say, the awkward silence from before has dissipated as you and Lera discuss weapons.

" I don't know Ms. Jeanne" She says, looking quite lost, her eyes dart from weapon rack to weapon rack.

"We'll buy the dagger, sword, and the spear," You tell the shopkeep, he nods and goes to the armoury to bring you your requested items. "Oh, and buy her the leather Gambeson and The Plate armour." You say.

"Does my lady need anything else?" the shopkeep replies with his gravelly voice.

" ," Lera whispers, "You should get yourself a new helm to cover your white hair. Maybe a custom one to your liking? Whichever the case, your hair will catch a lot of attention, the attention we don't need."

"show me a selection helms shopkeep" He nods and leads to a rack with an assortment of helmets.

\- [X] Helm 2

(Scene break)

You open the door slowly and look towards the balcony. The fountain in front of you distorts the servant's figure, and you have to walk around to get a better a look.

" You know," you say, " A bit of greeting has never hurt anyone."

"yes" you hear the servant speak, its voice has this boyish yet feminine sound that seems familiar to you. My my, what's with you and familiar things today..."But if I came to you anywhere else that would've brought unneeded attention. At least, this is more discreet. And don't worry yourself, Servant, I come here in peace." The figure turns around to face you as you finally get a better look. An androgynous face, thick black armour, and raven dark holy swords with red etchings. She stands with perfect regality, wielding authority with the naturalness of breathing, like an ideal king. Yes, you've met her before, in Chaldea, mainly during Christmas while you were...little, so to say.

There is no doubt, the servant before is.

The Dark Tainted Tyrant, Artoria Alter...

The king nods at you, "Avenger."

You nod back, "Saber..."

" I trust that there are no mundanes to hear us?"

" I have a translator near the stairs, I told her to stay put."

"Good, how long have you been in this world, Avenger?" Artoria inquires.

Wait, world? "6 days give or take, and what do you mean by world? You make it sound like we're not on Earth." Though that would explain many things, but also create more questions...

"That's cause we're not, Avenger, have you seen a map? You'd notice how different the continents are to ours." Well yes but the maps could just be zoomed in, you thought that maybe this was the bronze age, but that doesn't explain the sights you see in this city...the plate armour, the ships, that huge black wall. Maybe She is right. "I also got confirmation from a Counter Guardian that this planet is not Earth. The specific details are lost on me, but it boils down to the lack of the planet's will. How that counter guardian could know that is beyond me, but essentially there is no Gaia nor Alaya here, this planet doesn't even have a will of its own to survive and protect itself. It just is. Yes, there are magical beings in this world, but they are few and far between and the seasons here are peculiar. It could explain why magic here is so uncontrollable to the locals, but that is the gist of it."

" And how could a Counter Guardian be summoned here?"

"Easy, as a heroic spirit of the Alter Ego class" Your eyes widen a that, there are more extra classes than Ruler and Avenger?! "She was summoned by the Grail here though none of the servants I asked know its true location. And it seems that she's taken upon herself to do her duty as a counter guardian, so I suggest you don't pull your Dragon Witch act and burn a kingdom or two. The moment she views you as a threat to the status quo of this world, you'll be promptly killed. Rider and I learnt it the hard way."

"Is that why you ended up here in Volantis? to hide from her?"

"No, a king doesn't run nor retreat, Avenger, unless he wants his subject to view him as a weakling. No Rather, I am in Volantis in search of a ship to this Western Continent, to a city called Sunspear. If the words of Alter Ego rings true, then the Holy Grail isn't located here, in this continent." She walks up to, the pieces of her black armour clinks, hitting each other. She stops once she's within arms distance of you. "Which is why I'm here in the first place. To give you a proposition. An allied servant gives me a higher chance of surviving this war and obtaining the Grail, and there is no need for us to fight eventually too, 12 servants of different classes were summoned here, 1 is dead, so we only need to kill 6 more. We've known each other before during our time in Chaldea, so you don't need to fear anything malicious from me. So what do you say, Jeanne?" Artoria brings an open hand towards you, waiting for you to shake it.

What questions do you have for Artoria? (Servant identities, how she ended up here, why does she want the Grail, what happened to Eider, or how did she find you?)  
[X] Ask her about Alter Ego  
[X] Ask her about Rider

Do you abandon your trip to Mereen to follow Saber's quest for the Grail?  
-[X] Shake her hand.  
-[] Leave it.  
-[] After she answers your questions.

How do explain Saber's prescence to Lera?  
-[X] She's a friend from long ago  
-[] Reveal your Servant nature and the Holy Grail War  
-[] Write in...

QM note: Grammatical errors will be edited out.


	12. Volantis I-IV

Volantis I-IV

Well, this ruins your plans on going to Yi Ti. Well...as if there was a plan in the first place. Allying yourself with the Ice Bitch Queen would be advantageous, and both you and she are high-grade servants; thus, there shouldn't be too many problems in a fight. Her plan is quite simple also, kill 6 servants and find the Grail in the Western continent, which is an agreeable plan for you made even better with your alliance. Though a caveat is that you can't guarantee that there are 6 servants in that continent. Now, its a matter of just finding these servants and the Grail itself, in which you think Artoria might have a clue of.

You clasp her hand, gauntlet meeting gauntlet, and shake. Artoria's lips tug slightly upwards, "I knew that a peasant like you would know the right choice, to serve a king." She says condescendingly. Sigh, you almost forgot how bad she can be around you. Memories of her treatment to your younger self during Christmas flash before your eyes as you withhold a grimace.

You hold her gauntlet tightly and pull her towards you, "Don't get ahead of yourself, King. Of. Knights. I'll be coming with you, but don't think you have any right to command me, I'm unlike any of those stupid knights of yours."

She holds your hand in a death grip, "Likewise Mad Dog." Both of you separate as you walk to your bed and sit.

"So, what can you tell me about this Alter Ego servant you faced"

Saber pauses for a bit, staring at your fountain before turning her head towards you, " For one thing, she's able to match most servants in single combat, and her speed is what she relies on the most. Though what distinguishes her other than her class is her noble phantasm. Do not think me a liar when I say that Noble Phantasm she wields is absolutely deadly. The rider I was with was: Ozymandias, the one from that Camelot Singularity, had 2 of his Noble Phantasms running in sync with one another. One of them was his ship, the other was his reality marble, and this Alter Ego annihilated it all with her own Noble Phantasm. From what my eyes saw, Alter Ego's Noble Phantasm is a beam of black light that disintegrates anything. I guess that its somewhere between the level of a city or a country type Noble Phantasm due to its size, that's all I know of. She's tan and white of hair like most Counter Guardians I've met and has the tallest heels I've ever seen a woman wear, so if you spot her, run and tell me."

You nod, how concerning, a servant that outclasses even the great Ozymandias, " How did you survive your encounter with her?"

"I was given mercy."

"Mercy?!"

Saber shrugs and cups her chin, "She seems to be dim-witted, a bit like you Dog," It takes all of your restraint not to strike her and her smug smile, " all that I needed to do to get her off my back was to say that I had no intentions of doing anything drastic in this world, that I just wanted to find the Grail. So she just nodded and spared my life, not even asking me why I wanted the Grail in the first place. Hell, She was even nice enough to discuss with me rather than leave promptly, which garnered useful information."

Wait what, "That's...lenient...Did she tell you where she was going?" You ask.

"Yeah, somewhere further East, said that there were rumours of something disruptive that might've been caused by a servant. So she's gone there to prevent the status quo from being upset and annihilate that Heroic Spirit. Though I don't know how long she'll finish her mission and come back to monitor Western Essos. For the moment, we can rest assured that she won't monitor our activity. But most importantly, she answered my questions about the Grail and noted that it was located in the western continent, though she never said where exactly."

"huh...so we have a Counter Guardian whose got a Noble Phantasm that outclasses the ones wielded by Ozymandias and is roaming this world killing servants that might disrupt the status quo...?" You sigh exasperatedly and massage your temples. "How troublesome. And if she comes back here, we might be targeted by her if we do anything remotely strange. "

Saber nods again, "The worse part is, is that she never told me what actions are classified as disruptive, so I don't even know if us teaming up would warrant our deaths..."

"Yet you teamed up all the same"

"Anything for the Grail, and besides, she's going east and were headed west. She won't hassle us for quite a while I hope."

You really should ask her why she wants the Holy Grail so much, maybe in another time. Though it is weird, for the Ice Bitch Queen to team up with anyone, especially you, though you can see the practical advantages of such an alliance. You wonder if she'll kill you the moment you become useless to her though...What are you thinking? Of course, she will. She may be a manifestation of the honourable Arturia, but she is her blackened form. Such principles like honour, duty, and kindness are probably not present in this version of Saber. You guess its prudent that now you've allied with her, that you should ask what came about from her last partnership.

"Well, how did you come by Ozymandias in the first place? Can't be that long ago, can it?"

" Mind you, I was summoned a few months before you, and I found myself in some ruins in which I would later realize was an abandoned city: Vaes Tolorro, In the Red Waste north of Qarth. " She butchers the names with her British accent in such a way that you're sure Lera would've thrown a fit the same she did when you butchered the pronunciations too. "Anyways, I tried navigating around, hoping to find Civilization only to stumble upon ruin after ruin. It was when I arrived at another ruin, Vaes Shirosi it was called, that I found Ozymandias's gleaming pyramids. Immediately I was surrounded by Sphinxes and the Prideful King himself, who went on to point his staff at me, "how dare you to intrude upon my domain like a common thief!", He would exclaim, as the sun got brighter and brighter. I told him I was lost and that I would leave shortly. Though It took me a while to convince him that I didn't mean any harm, and by the end of it, I found myself at his dinner table in his pyramid, with food that was...not satiating." You can see disappointment written on her face as she recalls the memory. "Anyways, We mainly talk about the strange nature of this Grail War, and how we can sustain ourselves without a master, nothing productive really came out of it, and our questions still lay unanswered. Later on, he talked about establishing Egypt in this world, and how the Pyramids made by his Noble Phantasm would be the first step in becoming the Sun King of Essos. That was when Alter Ego came, who was probably eavesdropping us. I'll save you the details, but in the end, Ozymandias's new reign in this world came to an end before it began, while I was only mortally wounded and left to wonder west in search of the Grail. Then I arrived in Mereen, earned some gold from the fighting pits, then took a ship to Volantis, so that's why I'm here. "

Oh, It wasn't a partnership in the first place, they just happen to have fought together because of circumstance. Though you feel disappointed to have missed Alter Ego mortally wounding Saber, you would've revelled at such a sight. But now, you have an alliance, so you don't think you'll be seeing that anytime soon.

Saber looks around your room, head-turning minutely as her eyes roam around. She then spots the nightstand at the left side of your bed and walks towards it, armour clinking.

You're unamused at the unusual sight, "May I ask what the hell you think you're doing." You say with a dead-pan, not even bothering to turn your head towards her.

"That old man Maegyr told me this establishment puts bottles of wine in the cabinets of esteemed guests." Now you turn your head at that, She has connections with the leaders of this city already?! She pulls a drawer and smiles, "So he wasn't lying after all." and promptly pulls out a bottle and gets the cork out with her two fingers, "What a lovely aroma" she comments swirling the flask. Your mind is still stuck on the fact that she's talked to Maegyr in the first place, how did that even happen? Is that why Maegyr sought you out by the gates? Gave you your room? You did wonder why such an esteemed man of Volantis would greet you in person. You thought it was your hair since Lera's been hammering you with how unique it is, but if he sought you out because Saber informed him of your presence...Well, That would explain why Maegyr gave you your room and why Saber knew where it was...oSaber looks at you and says, "Consider this as compensation for having me explain such basic things to you." Your mind slowly pieces itself back together from your shock, and you realize Saber is drinking YOUR wine!

She takes long gulps with a satisfied look, gleaming eyes gaze at you with smugness and provocation. You boil, "PUT THAT DRINK DOWN." and you pounce right at her, hands reaching for the bottle.

She promptly side-step away and lets out a content "aahhh" as she stops drinking. "Have you not learned manners farmgirl? It does not do to leave a guest thirsty. Talking is thirsty work, you know?"She sighs" You would've let me drink this if you were younger, it such a shame you grew to be such a bitch", and she gulps the wine again, drinking quite greedily.

You are Lera of house Stassaris daughter of Gaemon Stassaris; esteemed merchant of Braavos, and you've been standing on these stairs for the past half hour. You're starting to worry for your lady now, she's been gone after she sensed someone was in you and your lady's room. Which is quite strange to you, for your lady to just know someone was there, which reminds you of the other odd things that she's done. Before she took you in, you've heard the Dothraki whisper the name Witch behind her back, a woman of dark magic able to summon an evil rod made of shadows and hate. Of course, you didn't really believe it, not at first, you just thought it was the wounded pride of the men blaming their loss on what they perceived to be a demon. But that all changed when you came to the fighting pits to watch her slaughter the fighters. 26 men went into that pit, and only 6 survived, the rest were either dismembered or turned into mulch. You can still remember what the noblemen muttered to himself during the fight, "dyni" he would say, "monster"...and she was a monster. She had the strength that belied her figure, speed faster than a horse, and ruthlessness that would make a Khal whimper.

It was at that point you realize that those Dothraki might have a point, that she may have some demon in her because no woman can be that strong-nay- no men can be that strong...She must have something magical about her, supernatural, but you don't really know...

You've been standing here for far too long now, and you're starting to get a bit sleepy. You know Ms. Jeanne told you to stay, but nothing has happened yet so far, you heard no breaking of furniture or a sword clash, so you presume it went peacefully. You walk towards the room, the only thing you hear is the pitter patter of your shoes on the brick floor. You reach the room and step inside, sighing in relief to see no signs of damage.

You spot two figures in black, and some boyish-looking man in armour, fighting over a flask of wine. The tension in the air chokes the life out of you as both warriors stare at each other. The man tenses up and looks behind you only to spot you. He smiles and asks, "Ah perfect timing servant, go and fetch us more wine to calm this dog down.", his voice soothes you with that naturally commanding tone, though you are weirded out by how high his pitch is, how young is this lad? "Girl, Did you not hear what I just said? Wine. Now." He says again.

Your lady looks at you with exasperation, "Lera, I told you to stay, why didn't you?"

You prepare a response before that handsome man cuts you off, "that's your servant? I pity her for being forced to serve a dog. Lera's your name is it?" You nod, and he walks closer to you, "Has she been treating you well? Did this rabid animal bite you? She certainly did when I took her drink." You're a bit shock at the way this boy has been addressing your lady, knowing how strong and temperamental she is, provoking her is akin to suicide.

You see clearly the man's features now as he gets closer, and it makes you feel light-headed. Those resolute eyes that stare deep into your soul, and a pale flawless face with an expression that screams authority. The knight stands before you fits the very description those Westerosi books have on them. This man in front of you is every bit as dashing and beautiful as a knight should be though with an air of roguishness to him, but you don't mind that, in fact, you quite like it that way. Oh if you only you were still with your noble family, you would've pestered your father day in and day out for this knights hand.

You feel your breath becoming more and more laboured as your heart threatens to pop. The knight speaks in that commanding tone of his, "Where did you find this stray, dog? she seems to be broken?" The knight waves his hand across your glazed eyes, oh how you want those arms to hold you.

"Stop it, Saber, I think you're scaring her."

"Fine" The knight turns away from you and starts to walk away.

You find the courage to let out a pathetic, "excuse me" as the dashing knight looks back to you. You so badly want to know his name. "Forgive me for my manners oh honourable Ser Knight, but I am Lera Starassi." You point to Jeanne ", and I am this lady's translator. May I be so rude as to ask for your name?" You give your best curtsy.

The knight grins a brilliant grin and looks towards your lady, "Hmph, take notes farmgirl" Jeanne's a farmgirl? "This is how one speaks properly." The knight's resolute gaze returns to you, "Very well. You amuse me so, and I will not do to leave you unrewarded. Listen well as I will only say it once, I am Arturia Pendragon, the King of Knights and son of Uthe-"

Your lady interrupts him with a groan, " Why do persists on calling yourself his son when you're clearly a girl? What's with you and trying to disguise yourself like a male? You're no king here, so the facade's not really needed."

The sounds of the world fade into the background as your left with your own thoughts. Your eyes are as wide as plates, but you barely focus on the subject in front of you. Everything becomes a blur. Wait...somethings not right...this Arturia Pendragon...IS A GIRL!

You feel some part of you die at the revelation, for someone so dashing and handsome and strong and beautiful and... HOW CAN HE BE A GIRL.

You're starting to see red, as you breathe faster and faster with fury, you feel cheated somehow, and you can't really vent your anger and shock. You let the darkness take you, giving your troubled mind peace.

You're Jeanne d'Arc, and you just saw your translator faint, her drool creating a puddle on the floor. "See what you've done Saber! You came off too strong on a mundane like her, you need to watch how you use that E rank Charisma of yours!"

Arturia, for the first time, seems flustered and confused, "I-I did not use my charisma skill at all..."

You walk up to heft Lera's unconscious body and wipe off her drool. You then drop her on the bed and tuck her in. Artoria stares at Lera with a blank look, "What is that stray to your dog?" You really wished she would stop calling that, though it could be worse.

"She's my translator, Ice Bitch Queen, took her in because she was useful and wanted to escape slavery."

"Ah, yes... Slavery here is quite rampant in this continent, though that brings up an important question. Most of the Western Continent's language is exactly like English, you won't be needing a translator there. Will you bring her with us then? I won't guarantee she would survive the fights we would have against other servants when we find them."

What to do about her  
[] Leave her she can only be a hindrance, and this Holy Grail War is too dangerous for her  
-[] Here in Volantis with a percentage of your gold. (state amount)  
-[] Leave her in a city of your choosing. (Saber might disapprove depending on how long it will delay your search for the Grail)  
-[] Write in...(could be a combination of the 2)

[] She stays with you  
-[] She seems well read enough to teach you a general sense of the world. This is important for dealing with the locals as she can tell which of the Great Houses is which.  
-[] You can protect her no matter what, she's safe with you. Besides, you can't guarantee her safety if you just leave her in a city. She wouldn't like it either, she came to you seeking adventure, Though stupid and childish you would honour that.  
-[] Write in... (A combination of the two)

-[] anything to ask or say to Saber? (i.e., how did you meet Maegyr in the first place? How long have you been here? Has there been any magical activity?)

QM Note: Sorry for the lateness! Ending the school year and Total War: Three Kingdoms (Which have been giving me a lot of ideas on what to do with Nobu) have been taking much of my time.


	13. Volantis Revolt I

[X] She stays with you  
-[X] She seems well read enough to teach you a general sense of the world. This is important for dealing with the locals as she can tell which of the Great Houses is which.  
[X] "What is your relation with Maegyr?"  
[X] "What happens once the Grail is used?"

"She's my translator, Ice Bitch Queen, took her in because she was useful and wanted to escape slavery."

"Ah, yes... Slavery here is quite rampant in this continent, though that brings up an important question. Most of the Western Continent's language is exactly like English; you won't be needing a translator there. Will you bring her with us then? I won't guarantee she would survive the fights we would have against other servants when we find them."

You look at Lera's unconscious form and can't help but to feel guilty. Guilty at the fact you were considering leaving her. Where will she go? This slave girl that wanted an out of a thankless existence, how will she suffer without you to be there for her.

Though nosy, she has made for some good company despite her easily squeamish and sheltered nature, which is strange for a slave; maybe she hasn't been a slave for long? You guess without her, some of your more brutal tendencies would've gone unchecked; whether you appreciate it or not is, well, you're not sure. But what you're assured of is that she's has helped assist you in navigating Volantis and teaching you about the world you've summoned in. She's quite literate too, which makes her more educated than your younger self, but most importantly she's well-read. Always she would talk about the knights and their houses in Westeros, of the jousting tournaments and the melees. She would recite the adventures of notable knights like Duncan the Tall and gush about Rhaegar Targaryen and lamented his tragic death. Your journey from the Volaena river to Volantis was filled with her constant talk of Westeros.

Saber's right, you won't be needing a translator but a guide, a guide that has no political affiliations or a secret agenda. It also helps that you somewhat enjoy her presence, despite being a bit meddlesome. Maybe it's because having someone to protect helps prove that you're better than HER? You don't know for sure, but you do feel fulfilled in some way.

You look at Arturia and suddenly say, "She stays."

"Oh?" Arturia raises an eyebrow.

"Other than translating she's taught me a lot about this world too, I presume that she used to belong to a Noble family and had a good education. She can be our guide in Westeros since she knows a significant amount of its culture and the lords of the realm. "

"Very well then, but I won't be able to ensure her survival."

"You don't need to Saber; I'll protect her, she isn't your problem but mine."

Arturia's eyes widen at that, and an awkward pause settles in. You feel your ears burning a tad bit. You can see a hundred thoughts form in her head before finally, she speaks, "huh...it seems you've taken a liking to her"

"She's a useful tool Saber! nothing more!" You cross your arms and look away from the Fallen Knight. The knight pauses, thinking intensely before she smiles a knowing smile.

"How typical of you Dog, to mask your feelings. It isn't shameful to say that you've made a friend, you know? I certainly won't judge, dogs tend to travel in packs, it is only natural for a feral animal like you to cling on to another, Witch."

The feelings of embarrassment are replaced by fury, your ears stop burning, but your head boils. "Shu-Shut up! Least I'm no failed king you Ice Queen Bitch! I saved a country while you ruined one, so don't go up to your high horse and look down on everyone."

"Ohhh, defensive are we? It's quite amusing to see a dog bark so wildly. I wonder if it can bite just as wildly." Both you and Saber step closer to another as you both stare each other down.

"Yeah, well I'm no dog bitch! I'm a dragon, and this dragon's got fangs for you, failure!"

Your foreheads are pushing each other now at this point, as the tension in the room chokes the air out of the both of you. Saber speaks in a low voice, "funny, and here I thought I was the one with the dragon attribute..."

"You sure don't act like one, cuckold."

"care to test that statement?" Saber draws Excalibur half-way out of its sheath. You restrain yourself, knowing that a small scuffle between you and her can kill your guide.

You stop your staring competition and look back at Lera's sleeping form. "Later, not when she's near" the tension bleeds away from that as Saber sheathes Excalibur back. You sigh.

"Good," she says, smiling, "at least you've grown more sensible since the French Singularity. " Is that...is that a compliment you're hearing from her?! What the hell is this about?! a test? Saber looks at Lera's sleeping form, "You also have a strange way of proving my point" Your ears start to burn again, "You seem quite protective of her" A pregnant pause settles in the conversation before Saber looks curiously at you, "Does she know how to fight at least?"

"No, I was planning on training her. We just got back from purchasing some weapons and armour, and I wanted to see which weapon fits her the best. Well, until I found you in my room."

Saber grins at that, "You prove my point yet again, Jeanne" Your ears burn hotter than before, "no worries, we have 4 days before the ship bound for Sunspear becomes fully manned and supplied. Plenty of time for training a novice, though aren't you a novice with the sword too, Jeanne? Tell me, what would the result be when an incompetent swordswoman teaches a beginner."

You roll your eyes, yes, you've never swung in life, but you've got the instinct to make up for it, "I'll make do."

"No, you will not, this Lera girl is no servant; you can't teach a beginner your instincts. You can only help them hone it, and they hone it through technique and practice. There is only so much you can train Jeanne. I'll help train her, though not frequently as my time is full."

You smile a knowing smile at that, "oh? Don't tell me you care about her too? Are you masking your feelings, Tyrant Knight?"

"No, idiot saint" Saber chides, "It does not do to have our only guide be a defenceless hack. If she intends to use the spear or the sword, I will train her to be decent at it. I will not associate myself with an unskilled Noble girl that can't swing a sword properly. Besides, I don't intend on babying her at all; she will get her bruises now rather than getting wounds later. Mainly so she won't die, I'd rather not hear the fuss you'll make when she does." You shrug at her point, "Oh and Jeanne?" You look back at Saber's growing smile. "What do you mean by "too"?".

Your ears are positively red now, and your cheeks too, how pathetic of you to show such a sight to the pale bitch. Your mind scrambles to find a way to change the subject, until ah-ha!

"W-W-Well, what is up with you and that Maegyr guy?!"

"Evading the question are we?"

"Just answer it!"

Saber chuckles at that, "Fine, if only to shut you up. Now...where to begin?" The King of Knights cups her chin in contemplation. "Well...you see, when I came to Volantis, I arrived at its West Bank, the place full of scum, villainy, and the colossal slave trade. Did it ever occur to you how big the slave trade here in Volantis is?"

You shake your head, "I didn't particularly pay much attention, I was busy focusing on other things."

"That is the difference between you and me, Jeanne, King and Peasant, I pay attention, question, and explore. Maybe next time if you did pay more attention, you would have made connections as I did in this city, rather than just bumble around in the fighting pits and the taverns."

"Get to the point," you say with an annoyed tone.

"I am, be patient. You see, though slaves are traded in and out of this city, many other people are enslaved here too. Whether it is because of debt, being tricked into a bad deal, or by being kidnapped; my immediate impression of this wretched city was the latter half. A couple of sellswords and slavers thought they could overwhelm a lost "boy." wielding arms and armour too heavy for him. I was surrounded by the scum once I went into an alleyway, out of sight. They were seasoned warriors those lot, but preying on the weak has made them complacent and arrogant, and they couldn't have taken me into account. 3 sweeps of the sword and all of their weapons broke, 4 slashes and they're all gone, 12 dead except for one. That one, I gave him a slow death, he begged and pleaded and cried as limb after limb was torn off by my hands. I extracted information out of him when I promised mercy, the idiot described to me his boss's appearance and where he lived, somewhere inside the black walls; and then he died."

You digest what Saber has said to you, well she's not the only one to have a bad impression of the people in this world. Though the King of Knight's experience with the slavers gives you a more in-depth view of what Lera described Volantis to be. It is not a society with slavery, but a society that depends on slavery. For it to be so rampant and essential to the nation so that slavers can kidnap freedmen and women day in day out gives you an awful impression. A hundred years before your birth, France abolished slavery, and one of the few things that you agreed with the church of France was on slavery: Akin to homicide, a barbaric practice. For a city to be so vibrant, yet so backwards and uncivilized, gives you more and more reasons to burn all to the ground. But you restrain yourself, promising to indulge on your love for burning in another time, though hopefully, the time to burn will come sooner rather than later.

Saber continues, "I found his boss a few days after, in a palanquin manned by a couple of slaves. He had a couple of guards with him too, all of them were spearman. He was a skinny looking man, a frail man, with grey hair and wrinkles. I called to him, and the entourage stopped, walked up to him as his guards looked at me wearily. I demanded compensation for the insult of having slavers attack me; he responded that I couldn't prove it and it was my word against his; to add insult to injury, he spat on my shoe and said some Valyrian nonsense. I shot back with Excalibur, killed all his men and got him by the neck. Before I could drag him to the alleyway to extract said compensation, I was stopped by the Triarch himself. Maegyr pleaded for this man's life and offered me gold, the room above yours, and a ship to Westeros. Though it came with a catch, he was enamoured by combat prowess and asked me to as a sort of enforcer for him. The Red Priests, a new cult, and general criminal activity have been plaguing Volantis and disrupting the city's economy. He thinks with my help I could cull them to safe levels, and After a bit of back and forth, I agreed and was promised a ride on one of the rare trade ship bound for Westeros. So, mainly I've been spending my 2 weeks here policing Volantis during the night, killing criminals, fanatics, though there were some unruly slaves that I let live. If it means less slavery in this god-forbidden city, I welcome the slave rebels."

Well then, Saber's time here has been quite eventful. You grin, "So you've spent the past two weeks as someone else's guard dog? How fitting"

Saber smiles dangerously, "You of all people should know, that I'm too strong for them to be leashed, hell I even have the role of commander with the Tiger Cloaks and my own squad. They treat me with the fear and respect I deserve."

"If the bitch queen says so," Arturia stirs at that, "Oh, by the way, was it you that brought Malaquo Maegyr to meet me outside the city?"

The Tyrant nods, "Had to pull a few strings to get you your room,"

"Huh..." You say, dumbly.

"Anyways, does this Lera of yours know anything about the Holy Grail War?" You shake your head, "Are ever gonna explain it to her?"

[] You will explain it to her  
\- [] After she wakes up  
\- [] During the Journey to Sunspear  
\- [] Once we reach Westeros  
[] You will not

Saber speaks again, "How are you gonna explain to your girl of our reasons to go going to Westeros...?"

[] Write in...(It's ok to say you don't know, Saber can handle it for you, but Lera will be weirded out by it.

Saber walks to the balcony of your room and beckons you to follow her. You walk out to be treated with the clear night sky full of stars.

"So when did you get here?" Saber asks.

You respond, " A week ago, woke up in the grasslands north of..."

You are Lera Stassaris, and you are waking up from your slumber. You just had a most fantastic dream of a dashing silver-haired knight saving you from evil horsemen. The dream ended when he took you to his castle and asked for your hand in marriage. Such bliss...

You stir on your bed as you hear voices in the periphery.

"What will happen once you use the Grail?"

"Are you such an idiot to forget that the Grail will grant whatever wish you have? Come on Jeanne you've used it before." You hear someone say with their mouth full, whose voice is muffled

Grail? What's a Grail? You're too tired to think.

"But since this is a new world, the effects could be different, hell it could even be corrupted."

You hear someone grunt at that. You move around under your bed sheets as your vision gain clarity. It's the morning now it seems, the orange rays of the morning sun seeps in through the window and the doorway leading to the balcony. The sloshing of the fountain soothes you as you wake.

"Look who's come back from the dead" You hear your lady say.

" *Sccrrunch* Took her long enough *Scrrrunch*" You hear someone say between each bite.

You rise out of bed to be treated with the sight of your lady in much more...comfortable clothing. So does this Arturia Pendragon from yesterday...whose wearing a dress that clearly shows her figure. You feel cheated and embarrassed; it's like seeing a beautiful and handsome boy's head stuck on a woman's body. How frustrating.

Though you are weirded out by the bucket and chicken leg, Arturia is holding.

"So how's your sleep before we lost you?" Your lady asks

You look down, embarrassed, "It was good Ms Jeanne, the bedding here is excellent "

"Is it? I wouldn't know."

The "knight" finally speaks, "you surround yourself with weird people Jeanne. Especially this stray." She resumes to munch on the chicken leg she was holding after that. You don't know how to feel about being called a stray, though it is certainly better than being called a dumb blonde whore.

You stare at her before speaking, "So what is she to you, Ms Jeanne?"

Arturia opens her mouth, her tongue still covered in chicken, before your lady interrupts her. "She's an old friend of mine, from the same continent."

Huh...you wonder if her continent is full of strong white-haired women like them, though you've never seen Arturia fight, she seems pretty powerful.

Your lady hands you a cup of water and, you drink, though you give her a quizzical expression.

"You're going to need it Lera-"

"First name basis are we?" Arturia chimes

"Shut up!" Jeanne coughs before speaking, "Arturia and I will be training you first thing in the morning, see if you have any talent for any of the weapons we bought."

You nod but groan inwardly; you were never fond of exercises in the morning, hell you barely exercised at all.

Jeanne scavenges the shopping sack and produces the weapons she purchased yesterday, a dagger, spear, and a longsword, you spot the full plate armour and the leather armour thing by the doorway to the balcony.

"So starts your first training session," Jeanne says, "Here are your weapons."

Arturia places her bucket down and swallows the chicken leg whole before walking up to you. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Jeanne!" she chastises your lady before looking to you, "Before you're handed your weapons, show me your fighting stance". You do, legs apart, arms close together, eyes focused. Arturia's face transforms into a rictus of disgust, and you can't help but feel discouraged...

"poor, you won't last a second in a fight. You might as well be good as dead if you're gonna be our guide." Wait what does she mean by "our guide", you look towards Ms Jeanne, "Guide?" you ask.

Ms Jeanne's mouth forms an "o" in realisation before sheepishly scratching her head. "Oh yeah, turns out we're not going to Yi Ti Lera, but Westeros".

Your eyes widen at that, well you've always wanted to go to Westeros, but "Why the sudden change of destination Ms Jeanne", before she responds a resounding THWACK is heard as you rub your hand in pain.

Arturia wields a wooden stick, "Eyes on the enemy, newbie."

"Where'd you even get the stick!?" You ask

"Got it last night in the market bridge after you passed out, I also got the chicken there too, but not the bucket." She pushes your leg into a position with her stick, "Here, You stand like so..."

Dagger Proficiency Progression 1D100 = 8  
Spear Proficiency Progression 1D100 = 43  
Longsword Proficiency Progression 1D100 = 91 (Lera wtf)  
Strength Check to wear plate armour 1D100 = 63 - DC :60  
Endurance Roll 1D100 = 81

By noon, your legs are as heavy as anchors, your sweating buckets in your plate and leather armour, and your everything is burning. Before you stands Arturia, armoured and untired, these past 6 hours have been hell, and you eye the knight's bucket of chicken lustfully.

"Impressive" Arturia praises, you feel a bit of joy at that, "you're pathetic at just about everything" You grimace, "Except for the longsword" your lips tug upwards as you collapse to the floor. The ground loves you, and you love it, you intend to stay like this forever... "don't get ahead of yourself, you may have better instincts than the guards I train, " She trains guards?! "but this is your first day, so they still outclass you. But overall, you did better than most as a beginner."

You see Jeanne nod, before walking into the balcony. "Uh, guys..." she says "You might want to have a look at this."

Arturia lifts you off the floor and supports you with her shoulder, how considerate. Both you and the knight reach the balcony before your jaw drops.

The biggest cloud of smoke you've ever seen fills the horizon and darkens the sunny sky. You look down to see that the smoke cloud is originating from one of the largest buildings of Volantis.

You are Jeanne d'Arc, and you're witnessing the local Temple of The Lord Of Light in flames. You hear shouts and the clashing of blades; there must be some sort of revolt taking place.

Saber looks at you, incredulously, " You sure you didn't start this fire?" Lera pales at that, but you shake your head. You hear the thud of boots coming from outside your room; someone's going to enter in. Saber notices it too and turns to face the room's entrance. A tall man enters, gasping for air; he seems to have run a long way. He holds a folded piece of paper, a message.

Arturia separates herself from Lera as she struggles to regain her footing, the Tyrant runs to the messenger. The man gains back his composure, "Captain, your presence is needed in the central palace immediately." Arturia takes the message and reads with utter focus. She nods and murmurs, thanks to the guard before going to the balcony.

"Jeanne, the Triarch's and the other captains are planning this city's defence, come and hold Lera tight, we don't want her dying after training. " You nod as Lera looks on with confusion, still panting after exercise.

Arturia stands over the edge of the balcony while you wrap your hand around Lera and follow her. She realizes what you're about to do, and shakes her head violently. You see the Knight jump down 2 stories before arresting her fall with the balcony of one of the rooms on the first floor. She then jumps to the roof of another building, the same place you got your weapons and armour it seems. You follow suit, accompanied by Lera's screaming and frantic shaking. "WHAT ARE YOU THINKING!?" She repeatedly shouts again and again as you fall, " I DON'T WANNA DIE LIKE THIS!" She screams hysterically. It must be your A-rank strength, but despite all that armour, Lera is pretty light you note. You arrest your fall too on the first-floor balcony, as Lera breathes heavily in relief, before screaming again as you jump to another roof.

Eventually, you cross the Black Walls and enter Old Volantis. Finally, you reach the grand palace in the centre of Old Volantis with Saber waiting for you at its entrance.

The Grand Palace fits the description perfectly, a gated compound with a huge mansion inside it. The gates are ornate, filled with decorations of older gods, and the front garden is massive. The palace itself is white and has many pillars and windows, the door to it is twice the height of a normal man, and the statues of gods are placed on the roofs.

Lera has finally calmed down from her episode; she barely manages to say a scant few words, "Don't...gasp...you ever...gasp...do that again...without warning..." You give a genuine but short laugh at that.

"Oh don't be a wuss, and compose yourself, were meeting the city's leaders."

"Those...leaders...gasp...can go...FUCK THEMSELVES!" Whoa there Lera.

You finally reach the planning room where Arturia is conversing peacefully with some of the other guard captains. Lera has recovered somewhat and stands with you as you walk in, though you don't comment on the dishevelled state of her hair.

The room is dark and vast, with high ceilings full of gorgeous decor, the walls are thick and riddled with paintings, and it stretches across really far. In the middle is a large table with a map of Volantis placed atop of it, with a few lanterns around it to light it up, making it the only bright spot in the room. You see the figure of Maegyr and several robed men clap for attention. Everyone gathers around the table as you and Lera stand next to Saber. A couple of the men give you weird looks, whilst one provides you with a contemptuous look. Lera feels awkward and out of place, while Saber has her determined face on.

One of the Triarchs, a Fat man by the name of Doniphos Paenymion, summarizes the situation. "Those Kraken Cultists from last month have started a riot; it seems that their target was the Temple of The Lord of Light while other cells try to stir up chaos in the other districts. What were their numbers again, Varar?"

A barrel-chested bearded man coughs before reporting, "The district with the highest concentration of cultist is in the Temple District, they number around 2 to 3 thousand and are currently engaged in a melee with the slave soldier of the temple, the Fiery Hand, they are approximately 1 thousand men. The second highest concentration is in the Shipyards and the Docks, the cultist there number around 1500 men and most of them are burning the buildings in the Guard District, we have lost all contact with the men there. The third highest is at the Market Bridge, our scouts couldn't get a reliable number, but we estimate it to be around 500 to 1000 men. Everywhere else there are small cultist incursions and slave revolts. Though thank the gods they are easy to spot, the helmets they wear are very distinctive...also, the weaponry of the cultist varies very differently. "

Everyone but you, Lera, and Saber wince at that. For a society where slavery is its core, a slave revolt is a dangerous thing.

"Chaos, utter chaos..."One of the robed men speaks shakingly.

One of the captains, a tanned man with a sharp nose speaks up, "This wouldn't have happened if you didn't give our "Capable"" He speaks with a condescending tone, "Head Captain free reign to do what he wants, now because of his incompetence Volantis is under siege from the inside!".

It is at this time that Saber speaks up, intense eyes looking directly at the petulant captain, "Careful now Vogoros, you shouldn't say such outrageous things with no basis in reality. Without me, the West Bank will be as lawless as it always has been for centuries, it is thanks to that that we have reliable information on the enemy's numbers. Be sure to remember that." Eh!? She's the head of the guard?!  
"ENOUGH!" Maegyr bellows, a weird thing to see an older man do. "We do not have time for guard captains to bicker with one another, and Vogoros" he points at the guard captain and gives him a baleful look, "Question my decision to appoint Arturia as head captain and I will see you hanged!" The offending guard captain nods and mumbles an apology.

"If that is all" Arturia speaks, she captures the attention of everyone, including Lera as they listen to her carefully. It seems that her Charisma skill is in command. "There are 21 guard captains here, each command 350 men. I want 10 regiments of 350 guards each handling the temple district with me. I want 8 regiments to relieve the garrison in the Guard District and annihilate them in the docks and the shipyards, the faster you do it, the better off we are in recovering after this mess. I want 2 regiments to create a blockade on each side of the Market bridge and prevent anyone from escaping. After the temple district and Shipyard District is handled, rendezvous in the Market Bridge and crush them with a flank, then spread around the city to establish order. Is that clear guard captains!"

"YES, SER!" They all bellow as Lera eeps at the sudden the noise.

Saber turns to you in askance. "Where will you be Avenger?" A couple of the guard captains look at you weirdly when Saber addresses you with that. Ughh, how troublesome, you should've told her that you also go by Jeanne here, it shouldn't that bad knowing how far apart the servants should be in this world.

Where to go...

Battle Plans

[] Help Saber win back the temple district.  
-[] Charge with Saber  
-[] Sneak in and destroy the cultist army from the inside.  
-[] Borrow some of her men and flank the Cultist Army

[] Win back the Shipyards and the docks  
-[] Relief the Garrison in the Guard District and take command  
-[] Support the guard captains assault on the docks  
-[] Support the guard captains in capturing the shipyards

[] Take on the Market Bridge  
-[] Don't waste time waiting for the Guard Captains to finish their districts, take this yourself.  
-[] Support the regiments in preventing the escape of anyone on the Bridge

[] help establish order in the city  
-[] Hire the help of sellswords and pacify the slave revolts  
-[] Kill any rebel scum in your vicinity  
-[] Focus on protecting the merchants and civilians.

[] Where does Lera go?  
-[] With you  
-[] With Saber  
-[] Back to the Inn  
-[] To a specific front alone  
-[] In the Grand Palace

[] Will you go mild or wild  
-[] Full employment of magic and Noble Phantasm  
-[] Some level of fire magic  
-[] Just plain old Lance and Sword.

[] How will you interact with the guard captains.  
-[] You will follow their orders  
-[] You are their equal, you cannot be ordered  
-[] They are your subordinates ( roll of dice)

Write in...(some votes aren't mutually exclusive and you can mix them, or you could go for a whole nother strategy entirely)

Please structure your vote as "Plan X" and put you voted actions under it, or I will not count them.

It should look something like

Plan X

[] action x  
-[] action y

[] action z  
-[] action w


	14. Interlude 1 : The Kraken Wakes

Morren never wanted to die like this, in the ocean with no one to help him or hear his pleas. The waters are so cold so treacherous, he had never wanted to end up here. The Dagger was the name of the ship he was on. And it was manned by true Ironborn like he, and the Ironborn were made to rule the world's ocean. No amount of waves nor storm would've brought that ship down.

No he rationalizes, it was pulled down, by what I don't know, a whirlpool? Some whale? Or maybe even a Kraken. Shit, come to think of it, things were bloody strange after we passed Cape Kraken. Maybe it really was a Kraken, one so big its tentacles can pull a longboat under........ah shit this is fucken mad, I'm starting to sound like that old fucker Aeron, I must be losing my mind.

He keeps on swimming to where ever he thinks the shore is, keeping in mind how much stamina he has left before he gets too tired to even keep afloat.

Just my fuken luck, stranded at Blazewater-Fucking-Bay

It was supposed to be a simple mission to bring provisions and men to reinforce the garrison in Moat Cailin. They were supposed to pass the Salts Spear and into the river to Moat Cailin and It seemed to start off really well too, the men were up for a good looting, and some of the younger lads were eager to bring some Saltwives. Their captain was a good captain, he had a good head on his shoulders and knew what he was doing. Thus Morren was absolutely-fucking-sure that it was no wave that brought the Dagger down in Blazewater Bay.

Things went mad after they passed Cape Kraken. Some of the Younger crew boys started whispering - nay- babbling to themselves real fast and scratching their arms real manic-like. Then one by one crewmate after crewmate started jumping off the boat to the ocean which was mad enough, but the worse part was their silence. They would have this blank look in their eyes and stop doing what they were doing. Their bodies become completely still, like a stone statue, Their chest would stop rising after every breath and they would just...freeze. Then came the walk. The afflicted men would walk- no glide- to the edges of the boat, then plop! Into the sea again and again.

He was rowing the Dagger when it was pulled down. The boat suddenly stopped at its track despite the amount of rowing everyone did and a sudden jerk occurred. Morren was one of the luckier ones as the jerking motion the ship had pushed Morren into the sea. The moment he got up to the surface the boat was gone, no trace and no noise. He had been swimming ever since and now a bloody fog had set in.

He stops swimming as he hears the rowing of a boat near him he doesn't know where, as the mists covers his vision. He hears the commands of the captain and the faint sounds of chatter be drowned by the sound of the singing crew.

"I offer my foe to the god in the Sea,  
Wielding an axe I am setting men free,  
Your life or mine doesn't matter to me,  
When I'm dead I will feast with my god in the sea,  
What is dead, canno----"

"SOMEBODY FUCKING HELP"

The angry groans from previously singing men fill Morren with amusement, he swims closer to where the sound was coming from. He spots the ship, looking like the longship he crewed.

"Pick me up I'm Ironborn" he shouts.

What is presumably the captain stands at the edge at the side of the ship facing towards him. He shouts back.

"What, In the fuck, Has happened to your ship?"

"It was sunk"

"Sunk how?!"

"I-I...I don't know"

The captain is starting to sound irate now.

"You. Don't. Know... listen here you fucking knobhead, if I catch you lying I will personally---"

"It was suddenly pulled down sir"

"Suddenly pull-- what? have you gone mad you bloody wanker!"

Yeah... mad, that's the word he'd use for this mess of a journey. Nothing was the same after Cape Kraken and he can feel he is losing more and more of himself into anger. He knows he's becoming unhinged but he doesn't know why. The impulse to kill that bastard son of a who- captain...the impulse to kill that captain grows. Fuck it, he's tired of all this; he just wants to be back home.

"The crew's gone mad!" Morren shouts at the top of his lungs, though he isn't that far from the ship to require that sort of volume, "It's been nothing but mad, I'm probably going mad too!. Ever since we passed Cape Kraken nothing was right!", now he's getting a tad excessive, " Our boys kept murmuring to themselves and some of 'em just jumped overboard! Then the Dagger was tugged down by something big I swear! There's something big enough to bring the Dagger down and it's out there in Blazewater Bay, I saw it with my own eyes! I've been swimming way to shore this entire time so will you please let me aboard!"

There was a long pause followed by some chatter. Someone from the ship throws a rope at him, it lands next to his face splashing his face with salt water.

He grasps for the rope and is then pulled towards the ship, he hears the Captain engaging in a very animated conversation with what he assumes to be his first mate. He ignores their conversation as he gets nearer and nearer to the stern of the ship. The noises of the ship and crew slowly fade into the background as he contemplates on the mess so far.

I'm finally going home, fock Moat Cailin, fock Blazewater-focking bay, and fock Cape Kraken

Now the stern blocks his entire view and he begins to climb up. He notices that something's wrong. An eerily silence has taken place, the chatter of the crew and that of the Captain and his first mate have just disappeared.

"No...NO"

The fog has increased in intensity, he could barely see past his arms and even then he has to squint hard enough to see his wrist. He climbs and climbs faster and faster, the horror slowly building up within him. His hand grasps a railing and he pulls himself up to the deck. The fog is still heavy as ever and all he ever sees is the oppressive white mist.

"HELLO!" he calls out, " IS THERE ANYONE HERE!"

It's futile, there was no response.

Then out of nowhere, he is pushed by a sudden gust of wind and falls on his back. The wooden deck didn't give as much cushion as the water and he reels in pain.

Then to his wonder, the fog around him dissipates. He could see the entirety of the ship but the sky and the horizon is still blocked by that damn white mist.

"My my" The voice of a little girl speaks, yet it lacks the bright bubbliness that children usually sound like when they speak. This voice is emotionless, listless even.

Morren jumps up from his prone state and frantically looks around. His heart is beating fast and his eyes widen as far as any man could. The voice sounded like it came from the fog, near the bow of the ship.

"What a resilient mind you have, to resist my loss of sanity skill" The voice speaks again only that it sounds like it came from the ship's stern.

Fock me

It speaks again, sounding closer to him, " You see, I am very dearly lost here. Usually, Ş̘͖̘̬͙̣̿̈́ͥ͛͗̀ͨ̍̈̄̌͛ͬͫ̀̅̍͘͢͠ư̵̸̔̓̃̋͒҉̴̜̲̩̩͉͚͉̞̠̻̩̙̪̹̳̲̙̺ţ̶̴̖͉̲̼̮͌ͭ͐́̒̒ͪͬ́̾̀͂̿͡-̵̡̗̹͓̝̘̮̭̯͎̆̂̔͑̓̅̚̕͝T͕̳̙͖̤̹̳͙ͥ̇ͩ̎̃̔͊͗ͥ̌̆ͬ͒ͥ̚͟͝y͑̈́ͥ͊̋͋̌̅ͪ̆̉҉̸͇̥̟͘͡ͅp̷̨͇͓̖̙͈̻̥̤͔͈̖͍̱̙̲̯̑͊͒̑̇ͬ̍̈ͭ̈́ͣ͆͢ḣ̶̵̳̺͈͚̼̥̘̂̇ͩơ̱̫̪̦̤̟̽̌̿̄ͭ̌̽̓̏̒ͯ͟ǹ̨͙̱̗̇͑ͮ͌͋̽ͩ̌̔͗̎ͥͣ̕ tells me things when I'm very lost, but strangely he doesn't know anything about this world, and the men here were very incoherent when I asked them. They babble and froth at their mouth and say useless things, things about drowned gods and deep ones. It's all very frustrating, they tell me nothing useful, I can't help it when their weak minds succumb to my presence"

There's a banging in Morren's head like he's being hit by a hammer, again and again, it throbs violently. He grasps his hair with his hands and pulls, slowly succumbing to madness. His eyes become bloodshot and he begins to bleed from his nose.

It continues " You, however, seem coherent enough to tell me of this world. What are these drowned gods? and who are these deep ones? Please do enlighten me, you would have my gratitude".

Morren collapses and falls to his knees. In his addled state, he looks up to the visage of a white-haired girl. Her blue skin stands out in the white fog, she wears a large hat with many bowties, and she holds a massive intricate key with her left hand. There's something bright on her forehead but Morren can't really concentrate that well to see what it is.

"Even if you can't tell me anything useful", She smiles ear to ear showing her sharklike teeth, " You'd just be food for my children".

The last thing Morren ever sees was a writhing mass of tentacles grasping him.


	15. Interlude 2 : Troubles in the North and the Demon Emperor of Yi Ti

\---------  
Robb I

Robb Stark the King of the North looks out the castle's window as his blood boils, there's now a dilemma. Edmure's blunder has lead the Mountain to slip from his grasp, losing 200 men for a mill and two Lannister boys, an absolute waste of good men. He should've coordinated better with the Tullies this he knows but managing the Northern lords, coordinating a war, and dealing with Theon's betrayal has left his hands full. His nights have been troubled, to say the least, fears of what Twyin's armies would do after he handles Stannis in Kings Landing has kept him awake. The prospects look grim, even more so now that the Tyrells have pledged their support, but no matter, the North will prevail and Winter will come for the Southron bastards.

A lordling interrupts his contemplation.

"My king"

Robb turns around to see the slim figure of Lord Robin Flint dressed in armour, his cheeks droopy and is complemented by his stubble. Robb guesses he may be a few summers younger than Father.

" Is there something you need Lord Robin?" he asks

"I haven't gotten any ravens back from my holdings in the North for months Lord Stark, I request that I come back with my 100 men"

"Shouldn't you have asked Roose Bolton for this?"

"I did ask Roose Bolton for permission but he told me to ask you"

" I see... So you think the Ironborn raided it"

"Yes Lord Stark, it was a matter of time considering where it is"

"Forgive me, Lord Robin, you're an honourable trustworthy man of that is no doubt, but I need you here with me in this war"

" Milord Stark, the things the Ironborn could do to my family---"

" Yes I know, and I hope you know the Ironborn isn't only in Flint's Finger Lord Robin. They're at my home where my brothers are, so don't think you're the only who doesn't want to be here"

Lord Robin pauses and grimaces.

"Forgive me, Lord Stark, I spoke out of turn, it's just...I worry for them, my family"

Robb puts a consoling hand on Robin's shoulders.

"I know, Lord Robin, I know. That's why we need to finish this war quickly so you can go home to your family, so we can all go home to our families"

\-------------------------------------  
??

A hundred thousand corpses are strewn across the open plain. A massive jungle lay on the far horizon whilst the sun reaches its apex, it would've been a picture of viridescent beauty had it not been for the blood and gore.

Each corpse across the field was in different states of mutilation but all of them are missing at least a chunk of their bodies. A man screams in agony as he tries to keep his guts from falling out, another stare dumbly at their dismembered legs, but out of all these suffering men, one still stands. His armour is rattled with holes in which blood pours out of, he is missing his right arm whilst his left holds his Jian tightly. Its hilt is decorated with gold and symbols but its shining brilliance is covered in blood. The man's face is the manifestation of the word Prince. A high jawline, sharp eyes, and high cheeks, he creates a dashing visage. A visage that destroyed by a missing eye, deep cuts at his cheeks, and dishevelled raven black hair.

A loud BANG rings across the battlefield as the man chokes on his own blood and falls, the newly open hole in his throat killing him. Then a woman appears through all the fire and smoke that dots all over the field.

She wears a black trenchcoat with six golden buttons and a belt at her waist. Her resplendent red cape sways brilliantly in the wind and creates a nice contrast with the rest of her attire. She wears baggy pants fitted with golden circular kneecaps that are right above her golden boots. Her gloved hand wields a katana with a yellow hilt and a red edge that shines magnificently despite all the smoke. The peaked cap she wears follows the red, black, and gold colour of her attire. At the front of the peaked cap is the golden symbol of a flower of her clan. Her smooth pale face, sharp chin and nose, and long flowing pitch-black hair give her a beauty that all men will sing. Her piercing red eyes observe the battlefield as she summons an arquebusier to her free hand and pulls the trigger. Another man screams in agony before petering out.

An entourage of men in distinctive lamellar armour comes up behind her. They have unique golden symbols on their armour to denote the noble house that they're from. These men walked shakingly behind the woman and quiver in fear. The sight they see right now is a sight no one in this world has ever seen, what they see is not the aftermath of a great battle but of systematic slaughter. One man in orange Lamellar armour approaches the woman and speaks reverently and fearfully

"To destroy the army of the Five Princes Coalition is...I have no words"

The woman speaks, her tone dripping with satisfaction, "Then save your breath Pol Qo and enjoy the view. Think of this splendid sight as a generous gift from your new emperor"

"Nothing we have can match the might of the weapons you wield"

"And your men will wield them soon enough, this will be the first of many battles for conquest."

"So that means you really are going through with it, even if you have no claim to the throne"

"Tell me General, is it claims and bloodlines that unites a people or the might of arms?"

"Might of arms will not unite a people, you're just forcing them into submission if you try"

"Wrong, General, and I thought you were smarter than that." She fakes cough before explaining "might of arms gives people fear and security. The greater the might of arms, the more they fear its power, but also the safer they feel from internal and external threats. I will give the people of Yi Ti that safety and stabilize this decadant realm"

"And if they don't see what you see, if they revolt? what then?

The Woman snorts derisively at that "Oh, no worries General, even if the people revolt under my new rule I will certainly not be deposed, I have my own way of dealing with rebels after all. But it's not like they would revolt in the first place. Innovation is the key to prosperity you see, and I'll innovate this land out of its stagnant state. Under my reign, there will be many changes, my policies will progress this nation from sluggish stagnation and will become an ascendant modern empire. My new subjects will hunger no more, nor will they fear the basilisks of the jungle, and the pinhead Jogos nai in the north, they will be content and there will be no revolts."

"You will rule all of Yi Ti with your progressive policies then? bring prosperity after millennia of schemes and suffering? Be the messiah of our people and save us from our decadence? Don't be silly, This isn't some fairytale where everything will go your way "

A twisted grin appears on her pale face " Oh how narrow minded of you general, what I'm giving you is much more magical than fairytales. And besides...Who said I plan on conquering just the Yi Ti?"

The men around freezes in shock at her statement, to have the ambition to conquer all of Yi Ti is crazy enough, but to want more than that is just plain madness. It is made apparent to the men and Pol Qo that the woman in front of them is ungodly ambitious yet seems to have the power and the mind to back accomplish those ambitions.

"You truly are a Demon Emperor..."

"Only to my enemies general, only to my enemies. "


	16. Interlude 3 : Rumour Mill

"...if your current position doesn't work out."

Tyrion stirs at that, typical of her sister to find a way to remove him in every situation. A pause settles in the small council before his lord father breaks it.

" Any news from the East?" he speaks, everyone in the room all pays close attention to every syllable his father said.

The Spider replies, "My birds have whispered of Daenerys's presence in Qarth, though these whispers are months old so she can be anywhere in slaver's bay. Though more interestingly, I have heard whispers of a man of high Valyrian blood in Mereen. Silver-haired and Yellow-eyed, a strange combination to be sure, and he wielded an armour and a sword both of black and red, Targaryen colours my lord. The whispers say that the man bested ten of the strongest men in the fighting pits, that he wields the strength of a dragon, and that he proclaims himself as a King."

Tywin replies, "You think it's another Targaryen vying for the Iron Throne? Surely your little birds would've heard of such a man in Essos by now. Why the sudden appearance of this man Varys? Are you too incompetent to not know of a Targaryen babe growing in Essos, or is there something else you've been hiding?".

"I assure my lord hand if he were from any of the free cities I would know. But it seems that he arrived in Mereen by crossing the red wastes, which tells me that he may have come from the East, the farther East even. He was last seen seven months ago, in a boat going to Volantis, seemingly going West in search of something if the whispers are true, but how far west he will go remains to be seen."

It was then Cersei decides to share her opinions on potential Eastern Invaders, " You're just wasting your time Lord Varys, A little girl and one foolhardy warrior is no threat to the stability of the Seven Kingdoms."

"Yes my Queen, but that is not the only individual of High Valyrian features, a Woman of Silver-hair was last spotted in Volantis very recently, I just got the reports of it this morning. She seems to have the same skill in fighting as the man found in Mereen, and like him, she made a name of herself in the fighting pits by taking out two dozen men swiftly and brutally. Though my birds have yet to write to me of her intentions."

Baelish chimes in, "May I point out a most unusual coincidence?" The room becomes silent, his grin growing all the more apparent, " Have you not notice the timing of strange events and the appearance of these High Valryian warriors? Just recently one of the Dothraki Khalasar's disbanded north of the Volaena river, a river directly connected to Volantis, without a clear cause. Then we have a High Valyrian woman spotted in Volantis only days later of the Khalasar's fracturing. If I were a betting man, I would think that woman may have a connection with it. The same goes for our man from Mereen. Many months ago, They were reports of a great black light seen by the Qarthi people. It seemed to have originated from the red wastes, the same region where that man came from when he arrived in Mereen. "

Tywin replies incredulously, "So you're saying these High Valyrians have something to do with the strange occurrences we've heard on Essos."

"Yes Lord Tywin, Isn't it quite strange that the timing of these unexplainable events coincides with the appearances of these High Valyrians?"

"Hmph, well am I expected to believe that these "High Valyrians" have anything to do with bringing down one of the mountains near Norvos?"

Pycelle breaks his silence and speaks, "The Maesters believe the mountain fell due to a splitting of the Earth. A natural thing to happen in Western Essos because of its unique geography.

Tywin nods "there you have it, it would be wise to spend our time not chasing ghosts and unusual men."

Baelish shoots back, "Yes Lord Tywin, but Essos seems to be gradually falling into chaos because of events like this, I'm sure you know their people are a superstitious lot." Pycell snorts derisively at that, "But these chaotic times creates new opportunities, ones that can help us win this horrible war."

"I thought you wanted to point out unusual coincidences Baelish, not propose more spies in the Eastern Continent."

"Yes Lord Tywin, but unusual coincidences can breed unusual opportunities."

"Very well, I'll allow you to...."

It is at this point Tyrion zones their discussions out, utterly focused on the exotic creature that has landed on his hand. A purple butterfly with no patterns on its wings, it sits on his hand quite comfortably it seems. "Grand Maester," Tyrion asks, "Are these butterflies native to Westeros?"

The older man stirs and looks towards it, "No it is not, the Maesters think its a species native to some island in the West and is in the process of migration, though why they're doing that we don't know. Though what we do know is that they are spotted everywhere in Westeros and bits of Essos."

"Do butterflies usually migrate when summer ends?"

"Yes they do, but they mainly migrate to avoid overpopulation...though their migration patterns do not make any natural sense recently." hmmm.

Tyrion raises his hand to look closely at the butterfly, the sounds of his father and Littlefinger fades into the background. He thinks Cersei is giving him a mocking look right now but no matter. The butterfly turns to better face Tyrion, how intelligent. The purple butterfly's many eyes stare back into Tyrion, and for some reason, Tyrion feels a bit of dread.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Gate observes a dwarfish man staring back at her butterfly with curiosity, she commands the butterfly to fly away into the courtyard of this Red Keep. The Key smiles after digesting the information from the small council, she is excited at the prospect of servant activity in the East and endeavours to have more butterflies there.

She stirs and sits up to look at the many portals she's made in this underwater cave of hers. It is quite convenient that she's found one that isn't completely filled with water and is directly under Pyke. Each portal leads to the greatest cities and castles of Westeros and Western Essos, and she has the key to all them, thanks to Su̮̱̫̱̻̰t̙͉͍̻͖̙͍-҉̫͍̙̻ͅT͙͍͍̱̭͜y̶̳̻̫͉̳̮p͈̹̙̩̹̀h҉̱̱̲̲̼o͈̰n̗̟̱ of course.

She wonders how the cults she's made are doing in the Free Cities, a quick look at Braavos brings her disappointment at their growth. But she quickly smiles when she notices how they're doing in Lorath, Myr and Volantis. They've grown to a size where they can overwhelm the city guards, though she doubts the cultists in Volantis can penetrate the black wall guarding the old city. No matter, she does not intend to take over these cities in the first place, they exist to collect information of this world for her and Su̮̱̫̱̻̰t̙͉͍̻͖̙͍-҉̫͍̙̻ͅT͙͍͍̱̭͜y̶̳̻̫͉̳̮p͈̹̙̩̹̀h҉̱̱̲̲̼o͈̰n̗̟̱'s benefit.

Her head throbs, Su̮̱̫̱̻̰t̙͉͍̻͖̙͍-҉̫͍̙̻ͅT͙͍͍̱̭͜y̶̳̻̫͉̳̮p͈̹̙̩̹̀h҉̱̱̲̲̼o͈̰n̗̟̱ has a message for her.

M͙̱̼̝̪ͮ́̒ͭ̐͠y̟̤̥͉̙͙̌ͪ̇ͧ̓͞͡ͅ ̭̻̟̬͚̹͔̗͆̅̍ͮ̕K̩̘͎̥̳̝ͣ̅ͬ͂ͅeͪ̌̍҉͔͢͡y̮̝͉̾̾̀ͪ̅ͨ̓̑͝͞,̡̨̛̠͉͇̱̦̍̅͌͐́̅ ̢͚̤̳͙̿̋̐ͧ͂̏ͨͣM̴̡͕͙̮͚͙̬̪̩͓ͤͮͮ̀̽͌͜y̷̹̠̙͐ͥͧ̌ͦ̾̓ͤ̒ ̨̦̥̭̪̃ͥ̑̐̽̈́ͥG̨̟̤̜̝̎͋͢ạ̵̗̺̦̺̗͇̀͒ͬͮ́ͅt̶̖̻̱̹̍ͩ̽̋͒̆̐e̺̲̪̫̍̑.͉͓̟̻̭̤͛͆͗̅͞

"Yes, my lord?" Abigail Speaks reverently.

Ḑ̘͔͖̼̪͙̫̮̪̪͎̭̮̜̣̺̳̬̃̅̍͑͌̾̔͛ͨͭ̓͛̌͆ͦ͛ͥ̚ḙ̸̷̢̪̻̜͇̟͇̣͍͓ͩ̑̌͊͘ͅͅş̛̟̜̭͓̘̟̗̖̦̥̲̟̜͍̩̦̲̬̍͗́̌̒̎̄͋̃͗͊ͮ͂̚̚t̨̻͖̺̤̪̖̞͈͉͗̽͐̾r̵̛͔̥̻͎̹͇̞̟̗̘̩͇ͪ͌̏ͣ͐ͮ̂̍̏͜ǫ̸̛̥̹̱͈̭̮͊ͤ͆ͬͥͨ͜y̵̸̘̭̘̫̪͓̼̺̰̰̗ͯ̇̆͛͒ ̶̣̖̜͙̃͊̄̈ͧͧ̏͡t̡̢͕͓̺̬̮̫̺̻̘͈̜̟̰͖̤̂ͩͩ̾ͯ̌́̂̀̽͟͝͝h͋̆̔ͭ͂̌̔͐ͧ̿̍̂̊͊̔͐̌̓͌͡͏͍̯̻̰̪̭͙͓͎͕͖̺̻̰͙͎̟̭͠e̿͑ͥ̍ͦ͌̉̆͗͂̇ͯ̌́͏̸̶͏̡̯̤̖̥̻̹̼̭̹̘̲͙͎͕̪̯̺ ̶̸͋ͪ̿ͬͧ̉ͬ̈͋ͭ͊͊͆̑̓̂̉҉̶̛̙̙͙̘̖͓̠̟̥̣̗̰͈̳̦̭͚ͅC̍ͪ̈̈́̌͛ͯ͋ͩͨ̀̚͏͉̩̖̦͓̣̙̥̫̣ͅą̴̧̡͓̱̺̥̘̺͈͚̜̯͈̺̹̺̪̄̊͂ͤ́̌̌ͅt̴̴̷͚͎̗̥͔̙͇̥͓̟͇̄ͯ̑ͦ͊̆̆̀̊̏ͤ́̕͢ͅh͖̻͇̗͕̳̗̰̤̱̣͇̩̻͈̥̻̀ͣ̃ͩ̾ͮͩͧͦ̓͋͂ͮ͂̀ͦ͟͝͡e̴̩̜͙̟̮͚͛ͬ̔̀̆ͬ̉ͥͪ͂ͣ͡ͅd̵̛͓̘̱̲͇̙̹͖̐̀ͨͩ͢r̮̭̮̦̥̽͌͒ͪ̄̀ͦ̂̿ͯͮ͜a̓͂̿ͨ̆ͥ́̐͗̈̀̾͊́͟͝҉͖͚͈̥̺̰̬͓ͅl͑͆͗ͬͤ͆͗ͪ͏͇̱̱̝͈̬̰͍͍̮͕̖̥͕̞͔͉̩̝͠  
̵͙͍̗̳̼͓̫̞̲̣͇̖̟̮̹̰͉̮̲ͯ̾ͬ̽̒͐̐̚͠

"For what reason, my lord?"

T̏̿̓̿ͨͪ͆҉̨ő̵̒̈͒ͯ͞ò̷ͣ̓͞ ̄̎ͮ͗ͫ̚s͆ͣ̓͌̈̐͛ē̡̔͒ͩ̊͌̏͂ͫe̴ͭͥ́͋̈́͑̏͛̄ ̴ͬ͊͠į̴̀̐ͥf̶̧̽̐ ̸̡́̀tͦ͊̕h̷͐̇̇̃̿ͭ͌ͨ̆e̛ͭ̃͛̽͋́͒ͬ̀r̽͜e͌ ̒̋̆ͮą̢̛̽́̃ͮ̿̈́́r̵͋̊ͪ̒̊̌̔ͧe̸͛̉ͮ͂ͭ͊ͬͯ͏ ͌ͩ͐ͬ̀̽ͭ̇̐ǧ̽̍͆ͪ̕͞o̓ͦ̅̎̏́ͩ͋d̔̑̑̃̚s̷̽͋͛͜ ̵͒w̸ͨ͐͏͜h̓̾̋͑͛̅̄̕͜ò̶̊̔͜ ̵͋͌͂̌͒ͭ͏wͨ͂̈͋҉҉ḯ̡͛ͤl̸ͥ͋͋ͧ̒̑̒̄̾l̶ͦͥͣ̎ͦ̉͛̎ ̴ͨ͋͑̃͢͞t̸̷̶ͦ͑̽ͩ̃̇̚ảͨ͛̿̍̐ͭͪ̍͏ǩ̔̑̾ͫ̅͟e̷͑͌͒̚ ̷ͩͦ̌̂͛̌ͧö͋̍̏ͦ͟f̡̿̍̌͌́̊͛͆̿fͭ̃̕͝͏ȇͫ͂̑ͩ̓͗̚͏̸n̴̂́ͮ͌̕͞c̷̿̚e̊͒ͧ̑́̊̂ͬ.͆̃̎̂̌  
̃̄̕

"Do you really believe this Lord of Light will intervene?" She asks curiously, strange for her lord to want to gain information through such actions.

I̷̾̅̽ͬͨͪ̓͏n̴ͩ͒ͨ͆̇ͣ̓ͭ͛̎̎ͮ̚̚͟ ̷̧͂ͬͭͥ̓̈̿ͣ̚͟͡͠s̢ͩ͌͋͗͊̽̌̈́ͩͥͩ͗͛͑̀̅҉o̷͌̽̆ͮ̏ͨ͆̆ͬ̈̂͊ͪ̚̚͘͜͠m̍̇̒̃̑ͯ̀̓̉ͭ̔̓͘͏͢é̵̸̔̈̎͆͢ ̵̶̐͋͛̒̊̆͟ẇ̸̛̄̎̃̾̈̾͒͒ͦ͛̄͆̏̌͜a̅ͮ̽̅̎ͯͣͬ̅̚͞͡y̒̄̌ͬͩͭ͏̴̨͘

"I will do as you command."

Her head stops throbbing, her lord has left. She slowly walks to the portals leading to Volantis, inserts a sizeable black key into it as the portal comes to life. She sees clearly through the portal a bustling harbour city and spots the Cathedral her lord wants to destroy. She speaks through the portal, and her Cultists hears her voice. Men and women of all shapes and sizes stir at her voice, The Smiths stop smithing, the bakers stop baking, and the guards stop guarding to hear her voice.

"Drown the Cathedral," Abigail says, "Your god wants to know whether this lord of light will respond to such an act."

Thousands of men stir into action in Volantis, arming themselves with whatever weapons they have. Though the blades they wield may be different, the one commonality between them is the helmets they use, dark and menacing its visage.

A reckoning has come.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the great city of Qarth, lays a tavern unaffected by the political turmoil of having their entire ruling class killed and the influx of refugees from the east. In this tavern, there is an unusual sight, even to the warlocks who have seen and done many a strange thing under the sun. There is a considerable space between the patrons of the tavern and a tanned silver-haired woman. Her massive sheathed sword nearly reaches the ceiling, which concerns even the greatest warriors in this tavern. She finishes her meal and spots a Yi Tish family at one of the booths. They squirm at her stare and tenses up when she walks up to them. The family of four, father, wife, son and daughter all fear of what she will say to them. The tanned woman reaches into her pocket as the family dreads what will happen next. Out of her pocket is a small bag of gold in which she throws to the family. The father catches it confused, as the Tanned woman brings up a new chair towards their table and sits.

Her voice is between a high baritone and a low tenor and is as commanding as it is emotionless. "Speak, what has happened in Yi Ti?"

It takes time for them to regain their composure as the father speaks on their behalf. "Madness, there is a civil war between the princes and a usurper. Many fled the fighting, though those who escape are the ones from the cities of the princes, strangely in the towns conquered by the usurper, the people stay. " The father speaks, his engl--common tongue slightly broken but coherent. " They say that Yi Ti will be unified under this usurper anytime now, her armies have good weapons and discipline. They fight with staffs that shoot out lightning and fight very organized. "

"How bad is the civil war?"

"Bad, very bad. Vast parts of the jungles are burnt, millions are already dead, there is only chaos..."

"Aye," One of the patrons at the back says. He wears light leather armour and has an Arakh at his waist, must be a former Dothraki." I have heard talk of the Jogos Nai hiding in the bone mountains, the plains have become too dangerous for them, and they have been dying like flies." His common tongue is perfect the Tanned woman notice. "I have also heard of dark magic in Trader Town, and the Shrinking Sea, dark magic of smoke and fire makes these weapons of lightning."

The father responds, "Yes, I have heard of that, too, they say her armies are cursed and fight without caring for their lives. But essentially, from Kayakayanaya to Yin, Yi Ti is burning"

The former Dothraki nods at that, rubbing his beard.

The Counter Guardian stands up and puts the chair back. This simply will not do, she asks one final question. "What is the name of this Usurper?"

The father pauses to think and finally says, "Demon Emperor", the Former Dothraki snorts at that, "that is true" the Dothraki says.

The Tanned woman nods at that as her expressions turn into a reminiscing look. "Thank you," she says, listlessly and walks towards the door. Thus the being that cleaves demons, pierces gods, and answers the prayers of men: Okita Souji, leaves. Her hand grasping her Odachi tightly as her tall heels click-clack on the wooden floor. The hunt begins...


	17. Interlude 4: Warlord's day to day and Schemes

The sun rises to its zenith, its light seeps into the windows as it brightens up Nobunaga's study.

She has her usual hat, and ornament-filled cape hanging on a stand right beside her desk, which is composed of the most beautiful ebony wood. Her katana lays squarely on the top-left corner of her desk, as it gives off a golden sheen under the risen sun.

Nobunaga is sat down on a quaint wooden chair, busying herself with the shuffling and signing of scrolls. Her hair is unkempt and falls down to her thigh, she's been here before dawn and hasn't bothered to move her hair back. So it hangs there, parts of it covering her face with some threads of that raven black hair sticking to her lips.

She moves on to one scroll and smiles. The parchment speaks of the successful assimilation of the native Bayasabhad culture. The warrior women from that fortress city will be integrated into the local garrison by the month's end, while the Yi Tish scholars are sent out to civilise the savages in the hopes of removing their more... unsightly cultural traditions. So long as she rules over them, there will be no involuntary castration of children, it is merely too self-destructive and cuts any prospect of growth for the city.

She knows the pacified warrior women shouldn't be too much of an issue to the new policies, they seem quite accepting of it actually. No, it's these "Great Fathers" of the city that will be an obstacle to her. So used to being on the top of this weird mosh-pit of Patriarchy and Matriarchy, they will inevitably resist. Nobunaga contemplates on ways to purge the city of them without rousing too much dissent.

"What would Okita do..."

She shakes her head and gives up. Problems for another time...

She smiles at the blueprint attached to the scroll, the Yi Tish architects have followed her instructions to the letter it seems. The designs for a mountain outpost for the Bones looks to be very promising. "The men are ready to build it on the areas surrounding the Sand Road," the text at the bottom of the blueprint says. "It'll take three to four months to build one, here's the list of materials for it....", Nobunaga skims through the list and reaches for an empty scroll

On it, she writes, "To the ever so capable Feng Guo, I permit the construction of ten of these outposts around the Sand Road. They will be manned by elements of An He's division once the situation in Bayasabhad stabilises. Make sure to pick An He's best men to guard the mountain outposts, if he makes any noise about it, tell him it's under my authority. Go, Feng Guo, go and bring civilisation to the Bone Mountains, I leave this essential task to you." And with that, she signs her name and puts the letter on the "To Send" box placed near her katana. Hopefully later today, a servant will pick it up and give it to the eunuch assigned to this estate where he will send the letters by way of eagle.

She moves on to another group of scrolls and skims them one by one. One scroll from Nobunaga's spymaster speaks of the sacking of the slaver city of Astapor, and how this Daenerys Targaryen endeavours to free all the slaves of Slavers Bay. The letter speculates that Mereen will be her next target in the coming months, if not weeks. Good, Nobunaga thinks, about time for the backward cities to be civilised. One day, once she heads west, she would like to meet this "Breaker of Chains" in person and offer her an administerial position for the region. But for now, she just has to be satisfied with sending letters.

Hmmm, So her shtick is on freeing slaves...Nobunaga bites her Ink Brush in contemplation. What if she sends her the Declaration of Human rights, that'd be interesting...Though the issue is, is that Nobunaga can't really remember any of it. In all honesty, she wasn't really paying attention to Gudako's lecture on it during their time in the Camelot singularity. How did that even pop up during the conversation?

Hm, guess she'll just write a letter of good will. "To the Breaker of Chains, Daenerys Targaryen..."

She finishes writing the letter and moves on to the next report, this time its one written by her Marshal. It speaks off whispers from the Mountains of Morn, of an unholy army being assembled in Carcosa. That the army is composed of half men and cannibals and is lead by the Sorcerer himself. Hmm, well, if the Yellow Emperor wishes to contest his stake on the crown with his abominations, she welcomes him to try. She hopes that he's used to disappointment though, monsters don't do so well against muskets, she's seen. Especially the big ones.

She moves on to read the report from one of the local commanders assigned to the Zhī jiān province, located southeast of Trader Town (Gosh she really has to rename her temporary Capital city someday). "There is a clear esprit de corps among the peasant soldiers. We have trained them day in and day out and they have not disappointed us. I must say, Your Imperial Majesty, that your suggestion to put these peasants into specific units is ingenious. They have formed close bonds with one another and have encouraged growth and discipline within the ranks. In a few short months, they have become as skilled and disciplined as a lord's guard. The peasant soldiers have also gained the respect of the professionals here too, and more and more farmer's sons are flocking to the recruitment centres, willing to fight for our most just causes. You will have three thousand new soldiers by this week's end, that I can assure you."

This puts a bright grin to the former Daimyo as she writes the plans to expand this program on a blank parchment. Once she finishes, she puts it into the "To Send" box, and moves on to another scroll. Her reading is interrupted by a loud knocking at her study room door.

"Come in!" She shouts.

A man in silk robes enters, sweating profusely with a horror-stricken expression. "Imperial Majesty," He speaks shakingly "forgive this one's misconduct, but I have received grievous news from the North!"

Jeez, grievous news or not, she wished he had used his inside voice.

"Speak"

"Your generals garrisoned northwards say that your plan to exterminate the Jogos Nhai is working very well, too well in fact. They have united under a single King and are marching south to fight their common enemy, us. The Generals have retreated and have lost their territorial gains in the plains as a result. They do not want to repeat Emperor Lo Bu's mistake and have consolidated their forces 15 leagues north this city. Back to where they had started in this campaign."

Close, too close, She had hoped her ceasefire with the Southern Princes would give her breathing room to strengthen her army and her realm. But now she has to contend with these Pin-Headed Mongol wannabes. No matter, she'll end the Jogos Nhai here and now and come back to Trader Town a victor. Maybe she'll emulate Ceasar's way of celebrating victory too, her few encounters with him in Chaldea has taught her that there's nothing like good Triumph after winning a major battle.

"How many of these Zorse riders are coming down south?" Nobunaga inquires.

"The scouts estimate at least five hundred thousand or more."

Nobunaga inhales deeply, sighing. "How goes the Weapons Development Division's progress in the Shrinking Sea?"

"The bronze cannons are still in the testing period your Imperial Majesty, but they have been successful in firing, just not during battlefield conditions."

"Good, they'll get to test them by this month's end, if the Jogos Nhai marches south faster than expected."

This reeks of Nagashino to Nobunaga, only this time its savage zorsemen rather than the esteemed Takeda cavalry.

"You can't mean--"

"Yes, I'm bringing those cannons with me to battle. Its time to see if these scholars are worth the gold I'm paying them. Now go, servant, tell my royal division to mobilise, their Emperor marches north."

\------------------------------------------------

Tck!

A small cup is put firmly on a wooden table; steam rises out of it from the hot green tea.

Tck!

Another cup lands on the table, though this one has no steam rising out of it, being half-empty, its drinker's satiated.

Two men sit across one another; fate has brought them together in this moment of turmoil. Each of them harbours a deep respect for one another, despite their wildly different philosophies and aspirations, for they are both brave and of exceptional talent.

They sweat under the tropical sun, with the room that they're drinking in offering little protection from it. A large entrance to the wooden room lets the rays of sunlight to oppressively saturate the rather small drinking area. But the men make do.

The pragmatist rubs his thin beard, protruding out of his chin. A beard unlike the savages from the west who leaves it unshaven and lets it stretch from their sideburns to their necks. His face is round, like a dumpling whilst his eyes are but slits, just like the man sitting across him. His hair is tied back by a rather elegant bun.

He takes another sip from the half-empty cup and speaks with his tenor voice and sophisticated demeanour, "The Azure dynasty burns, brother Delun, now there is only chaos. Brother fights brother, Fathers fight sons, and Yi Ti is torn apart."

The Idealist --Delun Anguo-- looks gravely unto the cup that he barely drank from. His cheeks high and his facial features are much less prominent than the older man across him. His expression stoic and unflinching, unlike the pragmatist whose face is jovial and warm, a face used to smiling. The idealist speaks, his voice a strong baritone, "Yes...The beacons of war are lit, and the order of old is inching closer to utter demise. How will my ancestors look at me when I fail as a servant to the Celestial Emperor, the will of Heaven? It brings great sorrow to my heart, now that Yi Ti is breaking apart. The people have lost faith in the Emperor and have forgotten their principles, now they rally behind warmongers and oppressors. This tyrant, this Mu Zhou has taken control of Yin, and Bu Gai becomes his puppet, making every lord in the realm screaming for his head. Now these commanders, these warlords, who covet Mu Zhou's power have taken up arms to usurp him. And they do it, all in the name of the Emperor...a mere pretence."

The pragmatist -- Cao Jian-- grins and sits back relaxed. He looks towards the open entrance, to the jungle that encompasses half of Yi Ti, filled with basilisks and bears, and turns to face Delun. He speaks jovially, "Excellent summation. To think you were totally isolated from the world in this small mountain, I am humbled yet again". He sits up smiling, "It is the will of heaven for the Azure dynasty to fall, you know?" At Delun's sceptical gaze Cao Jian proceeds to explain, "The Jade Green dynasty lasted two centuries, Indigo lasted one and a half, and the Grey lasted for a hundred and seventy-five. For each dynasty, there was a time of turmoil in which gave rise to heroes. Thus it is the will of Heaven to bring the fall of every dynasty, for where do heroes come from if there is no chaos? Yes, the villains come out of the woodwork, their positions soaring like the vultures they are, but it comes down to the heroes to stop them, is it not? "

Delun grins at that, but there is no humour or goodwill in his grin, "It seems that you revel in this time of suffering."

Cao Jian smiles widely as if Delun had said something funny, "hmmm, there is only despair in chaos, but if this chaos can be turned into order, then there is a great fortune to be found. Misery can lead to prosperity, for in peace, you would've been a mere sandal-bearer, and I a commander following the whims of others." Cao Jian resolutely puts a finger down to the table to emphasize his point, "But now fate has given us a ladder to rise above our station, where we can realize our dreams and aspirations. Mu Zhuo rules only the ashes, and in the cinders, the powerful and the righteous will emerge. "

"Is this what this meeting is about Brother Jian? A ploy to have me join your coalition?"

The pragmatist nods his head, smiling, "ohh It very much is!" He clasps his hands, "Our coalition, the New coalition, not the old one that was obliterated by the demon to the north, will bring back the glory of Yi Ti. No more will the eunuchs in the capital whisper lies to the Emperor, nor will the Emperor's actions go unchecked, the rule of the Bloodstone Emperor led to centuries of strife solely because there were no wise lords in his council."

Delun nods to himself, as if he had his points validated, "A noble goal... for scheming vultures. Your ambition knows no bounds Brother Jian, I'll give you that." Cao Jian lets out a short guffaw at that, "Ultimately, I agree. The present state of affairs is tearing this empire apart, but I will not supplant a tyrant for another. Do you, Cao Jian, harbour any desire for the imperial throne?"

Cao Jian laughs lightly, "Me? No...I would never have such presumptuous desires. This coalition is our best chance in unifying this country, it would be ruined if I replaced the Emperor."

Both men know this sentiment to be a lie, but Delun nods anyways and doesn't contest the point. "The order you seek, Brother Jian, is fundamentally wrong, it can only be restored by regaining the hearts of the people, who have been dealt with tyrant after tyrant and lost faith. Their hearts can only be recovered by following Heaven's way, Kindness, Justice, Loyalty, and Love."

A sombre expression falls on Cao Jian's face, "I must respectfully disagree, in my humble opinion, order cannot be restored, merely replaced, which is achieved through careful strategy that will attract the attention of talented men. Creating the foundation for a wise ruler and an able council."

Delun replies, his voice as calm as still water, "You say that, but right now these lords of yours are burning Yi Ti to the ground with their armies and their false claims. The economy is in shambles, the peasants fear for the fate of their villages, all the while your allies march to Yin with a host of Eight Hundred Thousand able men. Men who are better off in the fields than in battle. Where is your new order that you speak off when cities are torched to the ground--"

"In the coming dawn after this troubling night." Cao Jian interrupts, sipping his green tea again, leaving the cup empty, "This is part of establishing a new rule, no civil war is ever clean. Once this is over, this child of the Dawn will rise up, more mature, more powerful."

"hm, then we are at an impasse, you seek to replace the realm, I seek to preserve it."

The sudden booming guffaws from Cao Jian nearly makes Delun flinch, almost, the only physical reaction he had was the imperious raising of his eyebrows. Cao Jian calms down after a while before speaking to Delun excitedly, as if he were delivering a joke, "What realm is there to preserve? Hah?" He shakes his head, still smiling, "How about you travel to all the provinces of Yi Ti, and ask the common man who they think the true Celestial Emperor of Yi Ti is? Hm? You'll get a different answer every time. " He sits back, relaxed, and crosses his arms with a satisfied look upon his face. "The Queen of Màoyì Chéngshì (Trader's Town) revealed to the lords the utterly miserable state of Yi Ti's central administration. It took the Emperor 4 weeks to mobilize an appropriate force, by that time Oda Nobunaga had taken vast parts Tiqui, and was marching down to the capital with a meagre host. Then came the--"

"Battle of Tàiyīn pass and the destruction of the army of five Princes, yes, it'd be very hard not to hear of it. A hundred thousand men died in a single night, I would've thought it preposterous had I not seen the bodies myself." Delun's expression became serious as his eyes harden.

Cao Jian, still smiling jovially continues, "And it showed to the realm how much stronger one army under one leader united under one vision is compared to an army of five lords. Now the people clamour for any leader who will offer them just that, and with all five of the Azure princes dead in Tàiyīn, well..." Jian shrugs, "the rest is history." Cao Jian stands up and walks to grab his shoes, "We've all got a role to play in these trying times my good friend. Will you be the Hero, or the villain? I await your response to my coalition's proposal with bated breath."


	18. Interlude 5 : Death, the God and Concept Part.1

Warm rays of light fill the spacious peach-brick room; the windows create god-rays that envelop the exotic assortment of flowers by the window. Whether they are a malevolent maroon, a dim grey, or a bright white, flowers of all shapes and sizes bloom under the rising sun, its petals opening wide.

At one side of the room, flanked by two windows, is a bed made of satin. The silk blankets are a sombre dark blue, and the two dressers beside it are swarmed by flowers with souvenirs aplenty interspersed amidst the floral swarm. A small wooden replica of the Colossus that guards the waters of the Venetianesque city stands proudly on the dresser. Parts of the chest is covered by perfumes, with the bottles being extravagant as the smell that comes from it.

A figure stirs under the satin blankets, slim and smooth arms stretching out as the woman underneath goes through the motions of waking up. Her long blond hair unravels itself as she sits straight up, rubbing the drowsiness out of her eyes. They open to reveal a dark red iris, almost orange looking. Her cheeks aren't high nor low, but her jawline is well defined, and she sports a slim nose and small lips; she is the paragon of elegance and nobility, like a flower amongst the grass.

The woman walks to the bathroom and fills the bathtub with soothing hot water and sprinkles it with red rose petals. She disrobes before soaking in Nirvana.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With the morning rituals finished, she walks down the stairs and into the kitchen. The room is compact, and so is the dining room next to it, being only half the size of her bedroom. The kitchenwares are neatly organised on the table by the fireplace used for cooking, with pots neatly hanging atop the burning logs.

The blonde woman brings out a knife and grabs a crab from a waterfilled bucket near the fireplace. She places the crab onto the table and sighs, bringing the blade down to the carapace of the crab's head. The knife splits it open and separates the eyestalks of the crab, giving it a quick and painless death, as the creature stops moving.

She sighs, It's a natural thing, death, the one thing she of all people should know the most. Without it, there is no life, no gods nor humans, for how can there be if the stars stayed forever eternal. For every death, comes life, born anew after the end of another. Fallen creatures become the detritus that surrounds the surface of the world, feeding hundreds and thousands, or possibly help grow trees. She shakes her head; this is too early in the morning to think such troublesome thoughts. But it troubles her still that though she presently lives on the surface, there are many instances here that remind her of Irkalla. That dreary place...

Solemnly she places a hand on top of the corpse, and reality succumbs to her divine authority, stopping the crab's decay. This prevents the toxins in its gills to seep into the meat as it usually happens right after death; it would not do to ruin her dish. Carefully, she places the crab into the boiling pot and walks to her garden.

The garden itself is a menagerie of crops and flowers growing under the sun, creating a fantastically lovely sight to see with all the variety of flora. A sort of open-air museum of nature's majesty, an artwork of life. But she didn't come here to admire her work, but to find an expensive ingredient for her dish. Sequestered in a small hidden corner, covered by her rather little tool shack, is a small vine supported by a wooden pole. But it's not just any vine, the fruits of this plant are known to cause significant trade disputes, and even wars have been fought over it, or at least back in her world. A fruit that was so valuable that for a time, nearly every trader can set whatever price they wanted on it. Of course, what she is seeing is the Black Pepper plant, and what she is extracting is the peppercorn that comes from it.

With the wave of her hand, the peppercorn fully matures yet remains unripe, as she picks them off the Black Pepper plant itself. With seasoning secured, she comes back to the kitchen to make her dish.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After breakfast, she retreats to her study room, which is adorned with bookshelves full of books on a variety of topics, though most of them are books on the history of the world. In front of the window is her desk and chair, which makes for a cosy workplace. On the desk are the requests of her clients for her famed flowers.

You see, in Braavos she is known as Orylla Meranos, the skilled florist and former "slave" of a Dothraki Khalasar, regarded as a local beauty and celebrity, known for her kindness, elegance, and being a woman of culture. Though in truth, she is the goddess Ereshkigal, who was no slave nor florist, though the power of growth and decay is exceptionally convenient for her newfound job.

These past four months in this world had been quite tumultuous at first, but it quickly became comfortable after she set up her business here in Braavos, thanks to the help of some kind men and women. Life here has been very enlightening for the previously lonely goddess of the Great Below. Like a starving dog, she's been taking almost every opportunity to enjoy her newfound freedom here and met all kinds of people. Though despite that, she still wishes to come back to Chaldea, and see Ritsuka again. She misses the company she once had; to argue meaninglessly with Ishtar only to make up at the last second, running away from that muscle brained goddess, and just talking with her master; all of it made her feel so complete. Her heart aches to see them again. Hopefully, they're okay after that mess with Solomon...If not, well she can always drag Ritsuka back from the underworld...right?

In search of the Grail, she went to all the magical circles she could find in Braavos and researched deeply, though even then the goddess still doesn't have any clue on where the damn cup is yet, then she looked for other alternatives to return but came up with nothing. In the meantime, she spends her days here selling flowers and talking to the people.

She picks up a sheet of paper and reads the request, two orders for a King Protea and several orders for Heathers and Delphinium to create a bouquet fit for the prettiest courtesan of Braavos. Ah yes, another request from a lovestruck man, how very common here. Though she really shouldn't say that, since Ereshkigal herself is quite the romantic. She recalls a couple of times she stared at Ritsuka for a tad longer than usual, before tearing herself away from the sight.

She walks to the gardens again and rapidly grew said flowers with her authority over growth and decay and leaves to deliver her order in her "Casual" overworld outfit.

The bouquet she holds for the order has some extra flowers just in case anything happened to them. If nothing happens at all, then the customer has additional flowers, it's a small loss anyways, she can always grow more of the flowers fast.

In this city of a hundred islands and as many canals, the Goddess Ereshkigal ventures forth to deliver flowers.

As she opens up the door to her house, her nose is greeted with the smell of salt as her hair sways drastically due to the ocean breeze. She hears the sound of the rising and falling of waves and the chirping of birds, but she delights in listening to the bustling city waking up. The laughing children, the boisterous negotiations, and the gossip of the women are sounds Ereshkigal delights in, for these are the sounds of a city alive.

Ereshkigal's house is situated directly south of the fishmonger Brusco's home and is northeast of the bloody bridge. There are no roads in her area, just canals, and the distance between her door to the canal's waters is two steps away. It's a miracle that this city rarely floods. The buyer is located it seems, near the Iron Bank, about southwest of it. A pretty wealthy neighbourhood, that area, which makes sense considering how especially expensive the order is. After all, gardens and flowers are quite rare in Braavos.

It seems like she's going to need to take a gondola considering the distance, which "luckily" enough, there is one right in front of her house. Though she doesn't think its coincidence, considering the person on the boat. Vararro Paenel is a man with many years under his belt (for a human), his former fishing days has left him tan and wrinkled, he stands with a hunchback. Vararro has this full greying beard that makes him older than he looks and with his everpresent smile, he closely resembles Santa Clause, but if he was skinny and brown. To Ereshkigal, Vararro is the closest thing to a personal driver in this world, taking her anywhere she wants to go provided she has coin, and the goddess loves listening to his tales every time she goes out. The two met during her first days in the city, and through their conversation, have grown to be good friends. The man is just so jolly; it's impossible for her to dislike him.

Ereshkigal begins to speak in Braavosi High Valyrian "(How nice of you to always pick me up in such an early hour without fail.)" She says, acting overly elegant and pompous.

The man responds with a deep "Ha!" and bows reverently, "(Of course, M'lady, if I failed this noble task, I would've been acquainted with the executioner's blade)." He finishes off with a curtsy, which creates a bizarre sight to Ereshkigal's eyes.

And with tense silence, the two couldn't keep their waves of laughter at bay and snapped. After a few moments, they calm down as Ereshkigal gets on the gondola.

Vararro asks with a deep scraggly tone "(Where to capt?)"

Ereshkigal dusts off her dress before replying "(The Blue Lantern, I've got a customer near the Iron Bank.)"

Vararro whistles as he begins to navigate the boat, "(Rubbing shoulders with em lords and ladies eh? wow, to see how far you've gone.")

"(Oh don't flatter me Vararro)" Ereshkigal rolls her eyes

Vararro scoffs at that, "(If I were flattering ye, I would 'ave said that yer dress makes you look like a queen. If I didn't know any better, I might've--)"

"(Yes! Okay, I get it! Thanks!) " Ereshkigal nearly flusters at that, though Vararro isn't half wrong about her being queen.

This gets a chuckle from the old ex-fisherman as he says "(you need ta learn how to take compliments miss)", and silence follows after that. The only sound present is the movement of the boats and water.

Then Ereshkigal chooses to speak, "(You know...Curtsies are usually for women of the court, men, especially older ones, aren't meant to do them, it just looks idiotic.)"

"(Well excuuuuse me, princess. ya think I would care about which lords bend over which way.)"

"(Phrasing)"

Vararro scoffs "(Pah, phrasing she says...)"

"(Though you pull a convincing act you know? Vararro, have you ever thought of being a mummer?)"

Vararro shakes his head" (I only do honest work ms. Meranos. Find someone else to act in a play. I'm quite fine with being a gondolier.)

Ereshkigal replies jokingly "(Whatever you say, old man. You could rot on this boat for all I care.)"

"(Speaking of prince and princess... ye found a man yet? Living in that house and doing everything by yourself must be quite lonely, if I were you, I would've gone mad, and I fish for most of my life! You know...you shouldn't waste your youth just doing your job, I should know...)" He speaks solemnly as the conversation takes a darker turn.

If it were anyone else asking that, she would've given them divine punishment for their presumption, but with him, she'll take the time to correct his misunderstanding.

"(I do have a man)" she says softly, "(he's just...far away)" she comes up with a lie "(The Dothraki separated us, but I still hold on to the hope that he's still alive)"

"(Oh, I see...)" Vararro holds on his oar tightly "(Listen miss...as long as you're in Braavos, you're safe from em horse fockers. I'll guarantee that. This city here was made by slaves so that no decent man will live in chains.)"

Ereshkigal nods and silence follows before it is shortly broken by her, "(Besides, I haven't just been doing my "job", I've indulged myself from time to time. In fact, I've never felt so free, every day there's always something new for me. I mean, I thought you would've noticed considering how many places you've dropped me at.)"

Vararro hunches his shoulders and says, "(Look, once you're off the canals, you're outta my sight. Besides, I thought you were just meeting up with your customers. Though I gotta admit, it's amazing a woman like you got time for yourself, managing a business all on your own.)"  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun is a quarter way to its Zenith by the time the two reach to the northern region of Braavos. The bustle of the city is nearing full bloom, and they have to contest for space in the canals against other gondolas. One such gondola happened to have familiar faces to Ereshkigal.

Their two boats crash suddenly, due to the tightness of space. Vararro exchange insults to the other gondolier, but the passengers of the gondola, a family of three looked to Ereshkigal in surprise, a mother, father, and a daughter.

The daughter, no older than fourteen, points at the goddess in fascination. "(Mom look! It's the flower woman from last week!)"

"(Yes Minesa)" The mother rubs her head soothingly and looks up to Ereshkigal, "( How are you today Orylla?)"

Ereshkigal smiles and replies, "(I'm doing quite fine, thank you, how are the flowers I gav---)"

"(Is it true that your flowers can make anyone fall in love with me?)" The daughter boisterously asks.

The father chides Minesa "(Shush Minesa, don't interrupt the woman.)"

"(Sorry...)" the daughter looks down dejected.

The father looks at Ereshkigal with a sheepish look, "(forgive her)" he says, scratching his head, "(My daughter can get too excited sometimes.)"

"(It's perfectly fine, I don't think we've met mister...?)"

"(Garreo Stassaris, a pleasure to meet you)" He extends a hand

"(Pleasures all mine)" She says, shaking his hand. She looks down at the once loud girl, now furtive after being chastised by her father. "(Hey)" she speaks softly; the daughter steals a glance at her before looking back down. "(Don't be so scared, I've got just the thing to cheer you up.)" Ereshkigal reaches into the bouquet to grab an extra King Protea flower she brought and infuses it with a bit of her magic. As a goddess, it is well within her authority to give out a blessing, so reality bends to her authority yet again. The King Protea now gives the first person to touch it a slight increase in their lifespan, a blessing well within her power as Queen of Irkalla.

Ereshkigal delicately brings the flower to the girl herself, who looks at it in amazement. She grasps for it, and as her wrist reaches the flower, Ereshkigal can already notice the blessing taking form within the girl.

"(Thank you...)" she speaks with reverence.

The mother and father look at her in astonishment, "(Isn't this type of flower costly for you to procure? I heard they only grow in Sothoryos...We-we can't accept this...)"

"(Its alright, as long as it helps her smile.)" The death goddess looks down to the mortal being, "(Keep it safe and cherish it. It will improve your health. Forgive me, but I must go)"

The family of three exchange their goodbyes, as Ereshkigal's gondola finally moves towards their destination.


	19. Interlude 6 :Song of the Nightingale

The well-endowed figure of Dorne's "heiress" sashays on the pink marble of the Water Gardens. The day is clear, and the sun is at its zenith, it's light, so bright and full of warmth reflects on Arianne Martell's olive skin; giving it a slight shine. She is the picture of Dornish beauty, her wide dark eyes and long curled hair invokes the carnal desires of the passionate Dornishmen who are lucky enough to see her. Arianne's charm is enhanced by the flowing silks she wears, which leaves little to the imagination. All-in-All, she is a woman many would die for.

She navigates the Water Gardens, her hips swaying ever so slightly in each step. It's a magnificent display of how far men would go for the woman they love, this garden. This vast collection of lush trees ripe with Blood Oranges, and pools filled with water so clean it's as clear as glass. Where the salty smell of the coastline mixes with the aromas of exotic incenses, and where the warm breeze during the rising tide can soothe even a hardened veteran into sleep. This ostentatious garden, this small paradise by the beach, was a gift for a Queen. A royal Targaryen from centuries past, whose marriage with Arianne's ancestor: Maron Martell, lead to the unification of Dorne with the kingdoms of the north.

To many, its a symbol of peace, prosperity, and natural beauty, but to Arianne? This garden is the refuge of a cowardly spineless father, one who does not want anything to do with her. Why else would he only summon her here twice a year whereas her uncle, Oberyn, is summoned twice a fortnight?

Arianne boils under the surface as she restrains from outright stomping through the Water Gardens. Around her, children both noble and low born play in the pools, the sounds of splashing and ecstatic kids fill her ear. She saunters through the marble pathway, decorated by small wet footprints and shaded by the Blood Orange trees until finally, she reaches her father's estate.  
Didn't want a woman to administer better treatment

She's surprised to see that leaning on one of the archways is none other than her uncle, Oberyn, the Red Viper. The man is as graceful as ever, as he walks smoothly towards Arianne.

He speaks in his accented tongue, his tone loud and full of passion, " Ah, well if it isn't my lovely niece!", and as he nears her, Oberyn holds her shoulders and kisses her forehead, "Muah! You are growing more beautiful by the year."

His presence puts a smile on Arianne's face, a pleasant surprise, "You flatter me, uncle, it's so nice to have you here." She says with her usual husky voice, only it's full of pure, innocent joy.

"I can say the same for you, Arianne, its been so long, rarely does your father ever summon us at the same time."

Her mood lowers a bit as the mention of summoning "rarely does my father ever summon me..."

"No, no, no. Do not fret, Arianne; I'm sure Doran has a good reason for this, the man loves you, this I can say with certainty. Besides, if it consoles you, Doran hasn't summoned me in months."

Really now? Something must be keeping him very busy then. Though Arianne doesn't doubt Oberyn's words, she wonders how much does her father love her compared to her other siblings, probably not as much as her brother Quentyn it seems. "hm, well uncle...do you know why we're here?

"Did you not get the same letter as I did?"

Arianne shakes her head that, "No, it seems, the letter just told me to come."

"Hmm, well mine said that there was joyous news, big news. Of what, it did not say..."

"Strange for Father to be so...vague..."

"For good reasons, I believe. Wouldn't do for any spies to know what the actual news is. If they intercept this letter of course."

Arianne nods at that before a gigantic barrel-chested man whose skin is as dark as night comes in to greet them. He wields a large spear with a curved blade at the tip.

Oberyn smiles jubilantly at him, " Areo Hotah! how nice to see you."

The giant of a man smiles and speaks casually in his booming voice, "My Prince," he nods at Oberyn, then at Arianne "Princess. Doran will you see you now."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They enter the building, the sight of cloth and satin curtains, of floor sized carpets, and the sepia colours of the room and its furniture fills their a vision. It is a sight they are used to seeing, but the one thing Arianne realises is different from all the times she's been here is the smell. There aromas and incense are still present, but they are less prominent. There is an undercurrent of...something in the aromas, something 'that is clean or maybe sterile? Arianne can't put a finger on it.

"Do you notice something weird uncle?" Arianne asks, hoping that she's isn't the only smelling it. The three of them walk towards the stairs leading to the 2nd floor.

"You too? This living room is still the same, but the smell reminds me of a maester's operating room, for the ones learning to become healers."

It is at this point that Areo Hotah chimes in, "Must be because of the changes the Head Nurse made into this estate."

"Head Nurse? So Doran's employing lowborn women now?"

"hoh-oh my prince, I pray you do not say it in front of her or else your life is forfeit." Areo says in a teasing tone. At this point, they have reached the second floor, which is mainly a hallway leading to many doors.

"Oh? Has your time in the Water Gardens soften you up so much that a Septon has put fear in your heart?" Oberyn banters playfully

Areo sticks his index finger out and speaks in a lecturing tone, " She's no Septon, and yes, she scares me a bit, and you'd be scared too if you've spoken to her ."

"Really? And what is it about this woman that scares you so?"

"She has this focus to her, you see; a focus backed up by an insurmountable will and great inner strength — an admirable woman, and a very strong one too. I've seen her turn a man's head into a pulp by a single punch." Oberyn's eyebrows rise at this, "It's just that... talking to her is...very difficult and she herself is very hard to understand. And worst of all, I just get this feeling that if I'm in her way, she will kill me without hesitation nor remorse." At this point, they are near a door leading to Doran's room, Areo reaches for the handle until Arianne decides to speak.

"And this woman is taking care of my father?" Both men look back to Arianne's short figure; their conversation interrupted.

Areo Hotah decides to speak in this mysterious woman's defence, "She's very effective."

It's at this point that Oberyn connects the dots, "Wait, my friend. Do you mean to say that this woman has finally rid my brother of his gout? That would explain why the letter I was given speaks of joyous news."

Areo Hotah gives Oberyn a knowing smile, "Why don't you look and see". He grabs for the handle and opens the door.

Arianne's breath is stolen away from the sight of Doran Martell standing between two wooden railings. He walks slowly and carefully, using the railings as support. His foot is less red and lumpy, and his stature is less hunchbacked. Could this mean that his gout has abated?

Oberyn adopts a similar expression to Arianne's, wide eyes and jaw dropped, before replacing it with a face of joy.

Doran turns his head to the side and spots Arianne and Oberyn, he speaks with an elegant tone, much less accented than his brother's, "Ah Oberyn, and my sweet daughter. You've finally arrived." Doran smiles lightly at that.

Oberyn walks up slowly to his previously immobilized brother, unable to believe what he is seeing. "So this is what your letter is about? What wonderful news! It's about time that gout of yours to abate finally."

Arianne expresses her happiness and surprise at this too, " This is incredible! But...How are you able to stand up when no maester could cure you of your gout?"

Doran smiles at that and slowly walks to the chair situated near the railings, "It was no maester that did this, Areo, do call her here, Its about time they should meet"

"On my way."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The three Martells conversed and caught up with each other as Areo left to find Nightingale. During their small talks and their amazement of Doran's improving health, Both Arianne and Oberyn conjured images in their heads of who this Head Nurse is.

Oberyn believes it to be a scholar from Essos who has prowess in combat, while Arianne imagines the Nurse to be some tall mistress of a noble Lord who chose to live a life of poverty and nursing the sick back to health. They don't need to imagine for long as the door opens and Areo Hotah enters.

He speaks in his booming voice, " I present the Greatest apothecary of the Seven Kingdoms and a friend of Dorne, Florence Nightingale."

The voice of a woman can be heard from the hallway, speaking a mile a minute and with a steady, unchanging tone, "Incorrect, Apothecaries distribute medicine, I administer them."

In walks in a woman, no, an angel. Arianne thought that she was the height of beauty, till she saw her...this Nightingale. Blonde Pink hair tied into braids reach the woman's back shines brightly in the room. Her red uniform is formal yet accentuates her figure, but it is her face that is a work of art.

To think a nurse would carry a beauty that is so sublime yet so subtle as if she, herself is unaware of her own charm, or at least does not care of it. Amazing...

She speaks, her voice so out of place for an angel but more fitting with that of a soldier's, "Florence Nightingale, at your service. Do any of you need treatment?"


	20. Interlude 7 : Reminiscence of a Tyrannical Knight

Hard, red sand surrounds the face of a prone knight as the scorching sun heats the black armour, sizzling the woman underneath it. Her golden eyes open gradually, slowly waking up after a deep slumber. Saber's senses return to her, prompting the King of Knights to clench her fists in curiosity, wondering what led to her newly revitalized state. Her calculating gaze is set upon the sight of endless desert, full of dunes that rise up and down. It is a sea of sand obscured by a haze of heat.

The memories come without prompt nor warning, the sight of a grand temple in the sky assault her mind. They are unbidden memories, memories The Black Knight did not realize she had. The haze increases in intensity as the desert morphs into that accursed temple.

She remembers so vividly now, of that faraway throne that dwarfs her own, and the Demon Gods that littered the world.

The searing blast misses mear inches away from Saber as it leaves a trail of devastation, breaking the Servant formation. Waver retreats to recover as Medea Lily heals Saber and Nero's wounds.

"That damn cunni!" The Roman Empress exclaims, her hand now crisp and charred by the heat. The arm slowly regains its vitality as Medea's healing skill goes into effect. "Charring my flawless skin! My beauty is sacred I have you know! Not for the likes of you verpa to despoil."

Saber breathes a sigh of exasperation, how typical of that Empress to have such skewed priorities.

The Ex-king chances a quick look back at that far away throne, wondering what's taking her master so long. Another blast from the pillar comes forth and both frontline servants deftly dodge it. Medea, on the other hand, holds her staff with trembling arms, before gaining back her composure. The blast had nearly reached Medea's position, and the poor child was almost knocked out cold by the shock. The Caster repositions herself as both Saber servants ready themselves for another charge.

Nero goes first, fully healed and ready to exact revenge with Aestus Estus on hand. She slashes at the tentacle, cleansing the abomination.

Saber, the true Saber that is, powers up another blast from Excalibur, now revitalized by Medea's ministrations. Now fully charged and with the Demon God's full attention on Nero, Saber raises her sword to obliterate the oversized tentacle. But it was not to be. Their plans were shattered by that hole in the sky.

Ars Almadel Salomonis  
The Mage King's noble phantasm, one that could incinerate the world. Every servant was briefed of Solomon's true plan, and how he'll go about burning humanity, which meant that time was against Chaldea since they started this fight. For the Mage King's noble phantasm to activate now could mean only one thing. Ritsuka, Mash, and Merlin...they were too late, the Grand Order is finished. Saber's last memories was of that blinding light and the Time Temple's destruction. She saw two lone figures enveloped by the light, still standing, still defiant, hiding behind a shield to the noble phantasm to end all noble phantasms. The sight of it brings forth a chuckle out of the cold King. Even in her final moments, Galahad's successor, Kyrelight, would protect her master to the bitter end, no matter what. Saber meets oblivion with grudging acceptance, waiting for her body to dissipate into dust.

Only...she didn't disappear, didn't she? Saber sits on the scorching sand in contemplation, tapping her foot as the gears within her apathetic mind begin to turn.

She didn't remember turning into dust, that would've meant that she would be at the Throne of Heroes at this very moment, not some red wasteland of a desert. Though, could this be the Throne of Heroes? Turned to a wasteland after Solomon's grand plan... hmph, nonsense. No, the former King concludes, she remembers falling, she doesn't remember for long, but the former King definitely knows she was falling rather than dissipate into dust.

Could that mean she was transported somehow, either intentionally or not? Maybe she fell out of the singularity and was led to this world by way of Imaginary Numbers Space? No... that too wouldn't make sense, Saber realizes that she's just grasping at straws now, ignorant of the cause that brought her here.

Unsatisfied with this lack of knowledge, Saber thought that she might as well start exploring now. Feeling the wind graze her right cheek, the Black Knight turns left and proceeds to walk, following the direction of the wind.  
...

The howling gales accompany the King's dark thoughts as she observes the twinkling stars of an alien sky, filled with constellations that she's never seen before. The night has come, and so has the cold winds of the desert.

It's been two days of walking, contemplating, thinking, while the endlessness of the desert erodes the King's will. Two days of being alone with her thoughts, the bad company they are, being the only thing interesting as opposed to the monotony of the desert.

It's been two days and she's gotten nowhere in investigating the gaps in her memory and the reason why she's able to exist here. There's must assuredly be a Grail here to maintain her existence, there just has to be. But where's the usual hole in the sky that is indicative of Solomon's tampering, where are the signs of servant activity?. Saber gives up, realizing she's just being impatient and escapes into reminiscence, the stars slowly moulding into a single image.

It was time for festivities in Chaldea. That warm place full of comradery and heart, coupled with equal amounts of grudge and conflict. Civility is only maintained here by the grudging acceptance to work with one another for a common goal, to save the world, which brushes aside all other goals. Yet even then, Chaldea was a place of comfort despite all the issues that come with having scores of heroic spirits living in the same building, a testament to the skills of Chaldea's master.

The timing for Christmas was perfect seeing that the Singularity in London had just finished and the servants all wanted a good cheer. It's a smart move on Ritsuka's and Roman's part, Solomon's appearance had shaken everyone, and this festivity would do wonders for everyone's stress.

The Black Knight herself wanted to spend it resting and enjoying Emiya's cooking in her room, being the glutton that she was. Her mind entirely focused on tasting that savoury taste of a hamburger, complemented by stacks of pancakes covered in maple syrup and whip cream, a kingly feast. She walks out in her casual clothes, passing by Okita hefting up a large wrapped gift box. Both sabers nod at each other, while the King restrains herself from staring at Okita. Saber never did get why so many heroic spirits look just like her, the fact unnerves in ways she never realized she could be.

The Tyrant enters the formerly bare and small dining area, now made massive by the increasing number of servants. The dining area has been refurbished to a point where it has become unrecognizable when compared to its previous look. The walls have been given a nice brownish wallpaper adorned with regal patterns, while the floor is littered with carpets. A chandelier hangs above the lounge area that overlooks the fireplace and next to it is a large pane of glass overlooking the Arctic mountains. There's a small stage by the fire with a grand piano and a mic placed on it, though it is left empty at the moment with the usual performers: Jeanne, Mozart, and Marie being quite busy with decorations.

Waver and Iskandar sits at a table by the Christmas tree, the latter boisterously going about...something... all that matters was that Iskandar was his boisterous, obnoxious self while Waver deals with it in exasperation. The Romans: Nero, Romulus, Ceaser, and Caligula sit by a grand circular table with Nero dramatically recalling the events of the previous singularity while the rest listened in rapt attention.

Saber walks past the Knights of Camelot seated by a roundtable of their own, ignoring the stares the Tyrant illicits from them. Lancelot observes Arturia's shadow with a tinge of guilt, while Mordred's eyes are captivated by the sight of her "father's" counterpart, feelings of fascination and fear clash in the mind of Morgan's "son". Arturia, her original self, acknowledges her with a nod, seemingly less troubled than the other knights. Saber alter nods back while proceeding towards Emiya's kitchen, used to those stares that ostracize her, for a hero must be strong enough to destroy their enemies, not to be loved, so she moves on, cold and uncaring.

...

Saber nears the door to her room as she sees the sight of Chacha riding atop of Hijikata's shoulders whizz by. A surprise, The Tyrant didn't expect for that Demon Lieutenant to warm up to Chacha so quickly.

As their figures disappear into the distance, she could barely hear Chacha's shouts of, "Faster reindeer! We mustn't let Okita steal Auntie's heart!"

Followed by Hijikata's bellowing response, "I'll make sure the captain doesn't do any shameful acts while wearing the haori!".

Shrugging to herself, Saber enters her room while holding the tray. It was when the door to her immaculate room opens that she saw a sizeable mound on her bed, seems like someone's under the blankets.

With a sigh, Saber places the tray on her desk and proceeds to her bed, the smell of greasy meat and pancakes call to her like a siren's song, but she wouldn't be a King if she gave in to those temptations too easily. Her hand reaches for the blanket as the figure underneath trembles in fear. She pulls the sheet out fast as the intruder falls out of the bed in shock.

"Eek!" A childlike squeak erupts from a ball of white as it tumbles down and crashes onto the King's drawers, bringing forth a tsunami of clothing. Covered by Saber's collection of black jackets, jeans, and the occasional sweater, Jeanne Alter Lily rubs her forehead to expel her dizziness. Seeing the recently summoned Avenger's childlike form is something Saber thinks she will never get used to and vows to avoid Gilgamesh's youth potion at all times, lest she will endure the embarrassment Jeanne alter will have when she turns back to normal.

Saber speaks, her warning tone stills the air, "Intruding a king's domain can be punishable by death, child."

Foolishly disregarding the King's warning, Jeanne Alter Lily sticks her tongue out in defiance, " Whatever, stupid Queen, you're not even half as scary as Jackie, so don't even try."

"You playing Hide and Seek with her?" Saber inquires as a germ of an idea grows in her head.

"Yep, you know missy, your room is the perfect place to hide! It's near the end of the hallway, and the walk from Atalanta's place to here would've taken hours! I'd give you a gift for this spot if you weren't such a sourpuss."

Saber nods absently as she goes to the computer at the corner of her room. It took a while for Saber to get used to the intricacies of the machine. The Grail had not filled her head with instructions of its use, but once she got the hang of it, and it didn't take her long mind you, she found it a pleasant and versatile tool. One use of this "Computer" she realized, was the ability to contact a servant's communicator, a device made standard for every heroic spirit ever since the Orleans singularity. And it just so happens that the King had dialled up a certain ripper's phone number...

"Jack?" Saber asks, Jeanne Alter Lily's face becomes much paler than usual, "its Arturia Alter."

A childlike voice comes out of the computer, "Hai hai."

"Jeanne's here in my room, you can come and pick her up."

Both Jeanne and Jack let out a gasp, the former shocked while the latter is full of joyful, jubilant surprise.

"Coming!!"  
"nonononoonottheknives!"

With a smirk Saber hangs up the call and crouches down to Jeanne, "You were defiant, and rebellion must be met with excessive force."

She trembles in fear, her eyes frantically searching for a place to hide. A futile act. "Don't you remember how many cuts I got the last time she found me!? You know she can't restrain herself when it comes to games!"

"Then I hope you've learned a valuable lesson, brat. If you intrude upon my domain without my say, the punishment would be worse by some magnitudes. And besides, I have a strong belief that our Head Nurse would patch up any wounds you gain from your games with Jack."

"Eeek! I don't want to see Nightingale again! She's scarier than Jack!"

"Too bad", Saber holds Jeanne by the scruff of her neck as she struggles to get out of her grip. But the child only has rank C strength and fails to free herself.

Jeanne realized that if she's can't get out of the Tyrant's grip physically, she'll just have to resort to threats and insults, "You're the meanest, ugliest, stupidest, Queen ever! When I come back to normal I'm burning you first! Then you're going to the Demon Nurse's room, and then she'll turn you to a scaredy-cat. Then I'll burn you again! Which means you're gonna have to come back to her again! Once I'm done with you, you'd be so scared you wouldn't leave your room!". How very threatening.

Walking out of the room with Jeanne in hand, the King's keen eyes spot the black dot of an approaching Jack the Ripper. Jeanne sees her too and redoubles her effort to free herself, her flailing and tirades gaining a second wind. Eventually, the girl gets her wish, but not in the way she wants, considering that she finds herself flying towards Jack all thanks to that Tyrant.

Jack's eyes follow the falling Jeanne and utter two words that fill the latter with a deep, deep fear. "Found you!"

Jeanne's agonizing scream was music to Arturia's ears as she munched on Emiya's delicious cooking.

...

Arturia spots the shining pyramid across the horizon, and this time it's intact. The first ruin she encountered had risen her hopes up of reaching an actual settlement, but the second had nearly dashed it. To see actual civilization rather than signs of it is a welcome change from the dullness of the desert, and now she can finally get somewhere with her investigation.

There's a group of buildings huddled around the grand pyramid, and a closer look shows her the small silhouettes of workers and soldiers. Thanking her luck, Saber increases her pace, speeding across the dunes and getting closer to the city.  
A fatal and stupid mistake, especially for one such as her, to rush into a town without careful observation. But her desire to see civilization had overruled her good sense and judgement, and the moment Arturia realized she had just stepped into some sort of quasi-reality marble the sphinxes had already surrounded her.


	21. Volantis Revolt II

[X] You will explain it to her  
\-- [X] During the Journey to Sunspear  
[X] We will tell her an item we're looking for is probably there (details will be explained on the trip, see above). It will be dangerous though (so if she wants to back out, now's probably her last chance).  
[X] help establish order in the city  
\---[X] Focus on protecting the merchants and civilians.  
[X] Where does Lera go?  
\---[X] With you  
[X] Will you go mild or wild  
\---[X] Some level of fire magic  
[X] How will you interact with the guard captains.  
\---[X] You are their equal, you cannot be ordered

"If that is all" Arturia speaks, she captures the attention of everyone, including Lera as they listen to her carefully. It seems that her Charisma skill is in command. "There are 21 guard captains here, each command 350 men. I want 10 regiments of 350 guards each handling the temple district with me. I want 8 regiments to relieve the garrison in the Guard District and annihilate them in the docks and the shipyards, the faster you do it, the better off we are in recovering after this mess. I want 2 regiments to create a blockade on each side of the Market bridge and prevent anyone from escaping. After the temple district and Shipyard District is handled, rendezvous in the Market Bridge and crush them with a flank, then spread around the city to establish order. Is that clear guard captains!"

"YES, SER!" They all bellow as Lera eeps at the sudden the noise.

Saber turns to you in askance. "Where will you be Avenger?" A couple of the guard captains look at you weirdly when Saber addresses you with that. Ughh, how troublesome, you should've told her that you also go by Jeanne here, it shouldn't that bad knowing how far apart the servants should be in this world.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You look back at Saber, mulling over your options. You and the King are force multipliers to a scale unimaginable in this world you realize. Beings able to do a great many things, kill many people, and right many wrongs. Despite that, you can't be everywhere, and no matter how powerful the two of you are, a city in chaos will stay in chaos unless something is done about it promptly. Sure, Saber and her guard regiments can bring back order into this city, hell, the Tyrant Knight is perfect for this, but she needs to finish off the cultist first before pacifying the slaves in revolt. How much time will that take her? But most importantly, how much damage will occur to this city before Saber can bring back order? How many innocents lives will be burnt, ruined and destroyed in the meantime?  
Look at all those oppressed people, Berserker.  
A part of you wants to burn the greedy old men, self-absorbed ladies, and cocksure sons for hiding behind these black walls, praying to whatever false idol to bring them peace while sending men to die for them. It is unfair for Volantis's leading class to do nothing as order crumbles in the city, these are the type of men that would leave you when it is convenient for them and never pay your ransom whenever you're captured.  
They say that Volantis has 5 slaves for every master...  
You ball your hands into tight fists, Lera looks at you worriedly while Saber raises only an eyebrow. Most of the Guard Captains have already left, but the few them that stay look at you two with curiosity. You speak, "I'll help establish order in this city while the rest of you deal with the Cultists, I'll mainly be protecting the freedmen and the merchants, that way the city can recover faster after this. Show me where to go Arturia, and I'll discipline them into civility."

You'd want to free all of them don't you?

Some of the Captains including the robed men, including the Triarch Nyessos Vhassar, nod in approval while Maegyr grimaces, too bad, It matters not to you if saving the innocents is a detriment to the man's political gains. Saber's blank face tells you everything and nothing at the same time; you can see that Arturia is thinking intensely of what you just said, yellow eyes glued to yours unflinchingly. She's in some form of contemplation, but what she makes of your words you don't know.

of course you do

She speaks after a short pause, "hm, First you'll have to go through the Market Bridge, secure it with 2 other regiments, I'm cancelling the flanking plan. Then, you'll set up shelters for the freedmen at Bridgeton, from there you'll clear up any rebel activity at the adjacent districts completely but make sure to minimize collateral damage. Once you're done, I want you to escort the freedmen to safety in the shelters within Bridgeton, but be sure that there are no cultist infiltrators. Once you've saved all that you can, your main objective will be pacifying any dissenting elements in Thieves Quarter and the districts west of it; my forces will reinforce you once we finished the cultists off."

You nod, "Alright Saber, sounds good" The remaining guard captains look weirdly at you as you address Arturia, maybe you shouldn't have called her that way, "The sooner this is done, the sooner we can get a ship to Sunspear." Saber nods and the rest of the Guard Captains leave.

You're about to leave with Lera before Arturia stops you with a hand on your shoulder. You look back with mild annoyance, noting how empty the room is becoming as everyone leaves. She motions Lera to go ahead as she comes closer to you. Lera looks at the both of you with mild confusion, before her cheeks turn a tint of pink and scamper off. How troublesome, it seems she has come to some misunderstanding.

The Knight whispers, "You really do have bits of the Saint in you to care more about people than killing your enemies. It seems that you are much similar to her than you would like to believe Dog."

You humph at that, crossing your arms as you look away, "I'm only doing this so we can fetch a boat sooner, we can't do that if half the city is destroyed. Don't pretend you know me, Cuck."

Saber sighs a bit at your attempt, "right... Oh and don't bother saving freedmen, its the merchant's ships we need, the freedmen and other civilians offer us nothing."

You nod at her callous request; sometimes you forget that she really is a tyrant. You wonder what part of her was altered to think that way, to see an Ideal King as one who leaves the weak to their doom. A true tyrant. It makes you wonder which one of you is the truly evil one here. Both evils take guarantees the removal of one's aspect of Freedom; Lawful Evil takes away one's freedom to, while Chaotic Evil takes away one's freedom from. Which is worse, you don't know.

"I want you to come down on these rebels fiercely, put the fear of God" Grimace "into their hearts, but I would like it if you show the slave revolters some mercy. They're doom to fail, but they have hope in them, don't take away their hope for freedom or they will not revolt again. Once the city is at peace, and we leave for Westeros, there will be a more significant revolt. Fueled by the veterans of this rebellion and one's desire for freedom, only then will this backwards shithole of a city learn its folly."

You smile at that, and you can't help to notice the irony. Don't bother saving the freedmen, but don't go to harsh on the slaves, c'mon Saber, are you callous or not?

"Meet up with Araquo's regiment outside, he's hard to miss, Tiger emblem on the chest plate and huge claws welded into his gauntlet, interesting visage. Oh and please don't inform them of my real gender, masquerading as a boy prodigy has been quite entertaining and trouble-free. Now go, quickly, your Guide might be harassed by the men who deem her unworthy of being within this walls..."

And with that, you're gone.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It turns out Saber might right if you were a minute too late, Lera waves at your fast-approaching form as you note the armed men with tiger tattoos on their cheeks approaching her. Your arrival dissuades them of any malicious intent as they look at you with wonder and curiosity.

You look back at Lera's somewhat bronzed face, a bit of her paleness is still there. Her brown eyes stare back at you in askance, "You're coming with me to Bridgeton Lera; first we go through the Market Bridge and kill any cultists still there. You ready for your first fight?"

Lera looks hesitant, " I've only started training today...I'll be eaten up."

"Don't worry, you'll mainly be helping bring back order to this place, you know the language, I don't, so you'll be giving the people reassurance and directions on where to go. I'll do my best to protect you, but I won't guarantee that you'll come out of this without a fight."

Lera nods shakingly, "I'll do my best Ms.Jeanne..."

"Well, hopefully, you're best is enough for you to live through this, You've got good instincts with the sword, so I want you to stay calm and focused and to follow that instinct. Am I clear?" Lera nods, "Good, its time to prove your worth, now here's the plan..."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You meet Araquo outside the black walls covering Old Towne, and well...you think Saber understated how hard to miss he is. Despite being the middle of his regiment of tiger cloaked guards, he stands a head above them; his gauntlet shines under the noon sun with spikes on it acting as claws. He spots you, and you see that he seems to be in a jovial mood. His tanned animated face appears to be used to smiling, which complements his chiselled chin and high cheeks. He walks up to you with a perpetual grin, "Oh litse riña naejot dārōñe īlva lēda aōha issare kesīr. Skoros kostagon gaoman syt ao?" His voice is grand and booming.

You look in confusion as Lera sneers a bit in disgust before fixing her expression, "Shijetra ñuha riña, yn ziry ȳdragon mērī se Quptenkys Ēngos."  
There must be rebellion  
The rather tall man blinks in confusion before his eyes break of from Lera's to you, "Forgive me my lady" he speaks with what you think is a Spanish accent, his tone still grand but laced with sensual undertones. Amusing, he continues, " I did not expect such a flower to grace our regiment with its presence..." He kneels to you as the Tiger cloaked men look on with exasperation, they seem used to this. He grabs your right hand and kisses it before looking up to you with gleaming eyes, in a way he reminds of you of Brynhildr, and it feels you with disgust. Lera seems to feel the same way too as you separate your hand from his, before speaking "There are two regiments responsible for the Market Bridge, where is the other commander?"

"Right here, girl." Oi...you've heard that voice before; you look back to see Vogoros in his resplendent tiger stripped armour. You grimace again, is this Saber's way of messing with you, teaming you up with insufferable commanders? Or are you just unlucky that you were assigned to dash through the Market Bridge, a job so easy that she picks 2 of her worse commanders for it...Your E rank luck must have something to do about this.

Vogoros places himself between you and the shameless flirt as he turns to you with a look of cold judgement. You see clearly that his golden tiger armour is worsened by his utterly dull face, that sneer of his makes you hate him already, if not even more.

"I don't know who you are to our "Illustrious" Head Captain, or how many times you've bedded him, but this is a revolt, girl." He points his finger at you; his index is dangerously close to your nose, dangerous for him of course. If he gets any closer, he's a dead man. "I don't need you or your little friend to play soldier in the middle of a fight, look at you, both of you! You're no taller than a child, and frailer too, do you think you can contribute to this mission without being a deadweight? No! You belong in the rear, and as commander of this regiment I order you to do so."

The taller commander pushes Vogoros away from you and speaks to the petulant commander, "Can't you see Vogoros, you glory hogging imbecile! The Head Captain has ordered her to come with us to raise the troop's morale with her beauty! She's here to sing us songs and extol our virtues as we march to certain victory, the men certainly need it."

Vogoros shouts back, "If you were thinking with your head rather than your cock for once, you'd see that..."

Lera looks at you with worry, inside you feel boiling hot. Your rage is building, and your grip on St.Catherine tightens, The fire inside you is building up. These men are idiots; they're outrageous conduct just earned them the grudge of an Avenger.

You don't know how these monkeys got into their position, not through being a good commander that's for sure. They seem like great fighters, but they have no sense in hierarchy nor military organization.

what to do...


	22. Volantis Revolt III

[X] You were ordered to discipline this city, that includes its soldiers too, these men are wasting precious time.  
-[X] Strike Vogoros in the throat, then the spine just below the head.  
\--[X] You don't really care if you kill him or merely knock him unconscious, you wish to silence him in a way that gives some deniability about how dead he is.  
\--[X] Spare the flirt, tell him that you are not as patient as Arturia, so you will let the Captain deal with Vogoros when he awakes. Pass on Saber's instructions, and tell him to make sure the rest of his command makes no trouble for you.  
\--[X] Lift Vogoros with one hand and dump his body to the side and out of the way.

The taller commander pushes Vogoros away from you and speaks to the petulant commander, "Can't you see Vogoros, you glory hogging imbecile! The Head Captain has ordered her to come with us to raise the troop's morale with her beauty! She's here to sing us songs and extol our virtues as we march to certain victory, the men certainly need it."

Vogoros shouts back, "If you were thinking with your head rather than your cock for once, you'd see that..."

Lera looks at you with worry, inside you feel boiling hot. Your rage is building, and your grip on St.Catherine tightens, The fire inside you is building up. These men are idiots; they're outrageous conduct just earned them the grudge of an Avenger.

You don't know how these monkeys got into their position, not through being a good commander that's for sure. They seem like great fighters, but they have no sense in hierarchy nor military organisation.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

() = Characters speaking in Valyrian

Their argument gets heated as you walk towards them, this scares Lera, and she shakingly anticipates your next move. The two commanders don't notice you as you get closer, but their soldiers do, and they stand guarded and tense.

You're treated with a closer view of Vogoros's Gorget with its patterns and decorations indicating his status. You really really want to strike through his heart right now, but you can't guarantee how the rest of the soldiers would react to that. Whether they attack you or cower in fear, it would waste precious time all the same.

So you restrain yourself. Your hand blurs, accompanied by the screeching sound of twisted metal, Vogoros stands stock still as he immediately shuts up as his eyes roll upwards to his socket, while the taller commander looks at you with shock. The silence after the argument is deafening and Lera seems strangely confused, though you take in the sight of the shameless flirt's jaw utterly drop. Vogoros's body slumps, but before he falls, you grab him by the forearm and toss him away. He flies majestically as the sound of metal meeting brick accompanies his landing, the regiments look towards the direction in which Vogoros flew and back to you, Araquo does so too.

Must be a surreal sight for them to see a girl barely 160cm tall throw a man in full armour, this betters your previously foul mood. You look up to Araquo's stunned face and pull him by the hair towards you. That gets a verbal response from him as he, "ooh" and "ahh" in pain.

The moment his face is at the same level as yours you give him a baleful stare as the soldiers looks steadily on the both of you two. He sweats a little bit at your glare, "Listen here you incompetent dog, we've wasted enough time already with your bickering, and if you don't want to end up like your friend back there, you'll do your job and take the market bridge. Now tell your men that we'll be marching fast before the situation gets worse then it already is, you got that?" He nods, somewhat frantically." Good, If I get any trouble from these men or from you again, you'll find out I'm not as patient as your Head Captain."

He stands straight up, his face lacking the jovial expression he had before, good he's serious now. The man shouts with his booming voice before 700 men lose control over the scandal they just saw, " Vali! memēbagon se gūrogon arlī bisa oktion!"

The guards become silent before organizing their formations and marching towards the North Market.

You walk ahead of them as Lera follows closely, conflict and confusion evident on her face.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
You spot Fish Monger square and the large tavern in its centre, Lera sees it too before cringing in frustration, "Shoot!" she exclaims, "We forgot your helmet Ms.Jeanne!"

You restrain from facepalming yourself at that, and look back at Lera, "shit, I'll dash ahead Lera, go on without me," She responds with a hesitant look, "I'll be back quick", and she shakingly nods. It's a good thing she reminded you of that, you were planning on doing a little bit of burning today, so It's best to hide your face in front of all the fire-worshippers on the bank across, it'd be less troublesome. Though your armour is quite distinctive, no matter.  
That spiritual signature... a servant?  
You reach the tavern faster than anyone here could and are treated by the sight of armed private guards, sellswords, and weary merchants look cautiously at you. The once vast lobby has turned into a sort of encampment, guards are posted around entryways for rebels to enter in as merchants huddle up together in the centre as they discuss their plans for when this revolt is done. You nod to the receptionist and race towards the stares in blinding speed, there is no time to waste.  
Wait a minute...an Alter?  
You reach your room in record time in search of your helm, spotting the sack it was in at the corner of your room. You grab and put it on you as you adjust the straps. You notice that your sight is a bit limited, but it is a negligible issue, but you sense something wrong in your room.  
Avenger...  
The sort of wrongness where everything in this room was replaced by its exact copy, where you feel something at the back of your neck. As if at any time something will grab you, pulling you into an unwakeable sleep, you look back to see nothing was there. The room and all of its furniture are still there, the water fountain still runs water and the weapons Lera previously used are laid around the ground.  
Ah-ha, I see you  
The feeling of wrongness comes back again only now that feeling is accompanied by inaudible whispers. They surround you, increasing in volume as your head throbs in pain. You endure it as you see a small dark figure near the entryway to the balcony. You can't see any of its features other than its white soulless orbs that are placed at where you think the eyes should be on its face. It peeks at you, its soulless eyes indicating no thoughts to you. You unsheathe St.Catherine, and the figure disappears as if it was a figment of your imagination. You walk towards the balcony where the figure was to see no trace of it, could it be a trick of the light or a servant.  
now who are you?  
The whispers grow more intense, you feel your eyes and ears leak blood as you keep yourself from collapsing somewhat successfully, leading you to fall to one knee. You immediately remove your helm and check how much blood is bleeding out of you, before that images rapidly appear in front of you. Images of your family's prized cow grazing the plains, of a blonde girl living an idyllic life with her parents, of a short romance in your village before you took up the sword and flag. They all appear consecutively before the theme changes, now you see images of decapitated heads atop of spikes on castle walls, the constant gore and death in the battlefield, and you see a far away figure crucified on a stake.  
A witch! Just like me...  
Something...something's looking into your memories! You wipe off the blood dripping on your eyes and ears and put on your helm. You will yourself off the balcony as the whispers and images subside. You fall down like a rag doll as you attempt to recover and stick the landing.  
Y'AI 'NG'NGAH, SUT-TYPHON  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are Lera Stassaris, and you're marching with Guard Captain Araquo to the Long Bridge. Your mind follows the rhythm of the regiment's step as they march step by step by step. The rather tall commander beside you has been rather focused, his face adopts a somewhat severe expression, clearly thinking of something. He looks down to you and asks you a question in Valyrian, "(That woman...who is she to you?)"

You're quite hesitant to answer him without Jeanne around, so you stick with a dull response, "(She's my liberator.)"

"(Who'd she liberate you from?)"

"(Dothraki)" You keep your responses short, but you're weirded out by how the man gulps at that.

"(She freed you from the Dothraki?)"

"(Yeah, defeated most of their men and took me in)" The slave soldiers behind you look at each other, some of them adopt expressions indicates their disbelief, some look with wonder; guess some of them think that you're a liar.

"(Vogoros and I really did mess up...)" You roll your eyes, none of this would've happened if they weren't such undisciplined commanders. If they had thought critically to the reasons why Jeanne was with them, maybe they would've gotten the hint.

"(It's idiotic to anger her, have you heard of what happened in the fighting pits)"

"(Just wild stories of a champion slaughtering two dozen men yesterday)"

"(That was her)" Araquo's eyes widen like saucers.

"(oh...)" A long pause ensues after that, His undergoes many expressions, from fear to contemplation, to bold determination, he then turns to looks at you inquisitively, "Is she seeing anyon--"

"I'm here" Your lady's muffled but commanding voice interrupts the conversation as she drops down between you two.

"Where did you come from Ms.Jeanne? I did not see you approach us."

Jeanne's head turns to face you, you could barely see her yellow eyes through the helmet's 2 curved visors, but you see no strand of out hair coming out of it. "Jump down from one of the rooftops." Araquo scrunches his eyebrows in confusion while you only respond with an "Ah."

Araquo chooses this moment to speak, his voice focused and laced with fear, "You come right on time, my lady" You could see Jeanne roll her eyes beneath the visor before turning towards Araquo, "We're just about to arrive at the Market Bridge."

Your lady nods, and vocalizes her acknowledgement with a "hm".

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You're the Dragon Witch and ever since your return to the tavern you felt watchful eyes stare at you, never leaving you no matter how fast you go. You're grateful for the helmet because you're sure Lera would notice some of the blood you haven't wiped from your face yet.

You, Araquo, and Lera arrive at the northern entrance to the Long Bridge while the regiment lags behind. A great feat of engineering that Long Bridge, would it be safe to say it might be much larger than the London Bridge you wonder? Would Saber know?

You see the civilians in disarray, running from something originating from the south of the bridge, you see husbands hold their wives tight, Mothers carry their babies firmly close to their bosoms, while Vendors run frantically with their goods, hoping that the mass of humanity, the chaotic tide of men don't wash them away.

Araquo speaks over the shouting and the screaming, "I'll have my men and Vogoros's establish order in this section of the bridge first. After that I'll have a few men look into the buildings for any survivors or Rebels, the main force will wrest control of the bridge from the cultists."

"What'll we do Ms Jeanne?" Lera asks.


	23. Volantis Revolt IV

[X] I'll help your men kill the main cultist forces in the Long Bridge  
-[X] Mainly use St. Catherine  
-[X] Supplemented by limited use of fire (In front of the Lord Of Light worshipping soldiers)

You see the civilians in disarray, running from something originating from the south of the bridge, you see husbands hold their wives tight, Mothers carry their babies firmly close to their bosoms, while Vendors run frantically with their goods, hoping that the mass of humanity, the chaotic tide of men don't wash them away.

Araquo speaks over the shouting and the screaming, "I'll have my men and Vogoros's establish order in this section of the bridge first. After that I'll have a few men look into the buildings for any survivors or Rebels, the main force will wrest control of the bridge from the cultists."

"What'll we do Ms Jeanne?" Lera asks.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The crowd passes the three of you as you contemplate your decision. Araquo and Lera wait for you to speak with bated breath. You're not too sure about Araquo, but you know Lera understands that whatever decision you make will ultimately affect the outcome of this battle. You're just that strong. Right now you want to make it to Bridgeton as fast as possible and establish order, but you can't just rush through the Long Bridge and leave Araquo's regiment to battle the cultists. It would leave your rear vulnerable until Araquo secures the bridge, and that would put your entire operation at risk.

Instead, you'll help him defeat the main force as fast as possible, which means some use of your fire is needed. Usually, you would need your lance to generate fire, but St.Catherine will do fine, just not as potent.

Your path is clear, destroy the main forces and head to Bridgeton while Araquo cleans up, that way you can settle this revolt fast. You hope Saber doesn't meet any complications with this revolt though; you feel that something is lurking about. Ever since you left the tavern, you have felt eyes stare behind you; you think it might have something to do with the revolt as it cannot be a coincidence. This concerns you because if that is true, then there are supernatural elements to this rebellion, you hope whatever entity is watching you doesn't slow you down. Or you'll kill it, whatever it is.

You look at Lera through your visor, and speak, " We'll aid Araquo in taking the main force head on, then we'll move to Bridgeton to fulfil our orders." You place your hand on one of Lera's shoulder, "You ready for a baptism of fire?"

"Baptism?" Lera asks inquisitively, Araquo looks at you confused.

"Your first battle." You clarify, she trembles hesitantly, and you give her a reassuring shake, "Don't worry, from what I've heard, they're just fighting common rabble, and Arturia says that you have good instincts with the sword, which is high praise coming from him." At this, Lera nods slowly.

Araquo meanwhile adopts an intense look as the three of you wade through the mass of humanity while the soldiers behind you manage them. He opens his mouth, then closes it, before speaking, "You've seen the Head Captain fight?" You nod in response, not sure of where he's going, "I've never seen him fight, and I always found it weird how a girly looking boy like him could reach to the position right after his predecessor's death. Most of us think that he curried favour with Maegyr and got his position as a result, but the longer he stays head captain, the more I'm convinced that he's a capable commander. He's got that..." Araquo gestures wildly with his hands as he tries to find the right word, "Air...he's got that air of a natural leader... like he's done this his whole life."

You shrug at that, "He more than deserves the position of Head Captain of the City Guard, I've seen him fight and command before and I almost pity the Cultist in the Temple District, they don't know what's coming to them"

Araquo nods and his expression tells you of a man who had his beliefs validated by someone, "You should tell me about it after the battle" You see Lera shake her head at the corner of your eye, though you're not sure why. Did Araquo mean something insulting when he said that? Was there some meaning he was implying that you're not seeing? Troublesome, you're not good at reading between the lines. He speaks again, "There's an inn nearby that has--"

Schlink

A man screams in agony behind you; it's one of the soldiers...he's holding a spear impaled on his chest and then collapses — a puddle of his blood forms around the body.

You look back again to see the mass of humanity disappear, replaced by ranks of dark-robed men in their menacing helmets. They all hold different weapons, but the most notable of all is a sword full of barnacles the lead cultist is wielding. There is a stillness after that as the guards get in tight formation, creating a wall of spears, tempting them to charge right now if they dare. Lera steps back as you and Araquo move forward. There's a considerable distance between you and the lead cultist as you wage a war of wills, staring intensely at him.

The leading cultist spreads his arms wide out and chants, "C' ymg' goka, nilgh'ri kadishtu ehye, gn'th'bthnk ot hlirghh." This stirs them into action as the rest of em charge, wielding a motley array of weapons. Guess its time for a proper show. You unsheathe St.Catherine and point it to the cultist.

You impose your will on reality as a jet of hot dragon fire manifests on St.Catherine's blade. The force of the sudden generation of fire creates strong winds that makes your hair flutter and pushes Araquo back a step. He stares at you with slacked jaws as Lera and the soldiers tremble to contain their wonder. You take a single step, and you're gone like the wind, you suddenly appear behind the leading cultist as the rest of his comrades stumble at your surprise appearance.

You swing, and St.Catherine blurs, the top half of the lead cultist falls off, but no blood comes out, his wound already cauterised. He loses grip on his barnacle sword and falls. The rest of the cultist recovers from their shock, but they're too late, you've already moved on to the next.

Schlinggg

Another falls, blood spurting out of his neck.

Schlinggg

And another is beheaded, his head tumbling to the ground.

You see five different blades come at you, but they're slow, slower than the Dothraki. It is to be expected of these common rabbles. You swing St.Catherine yet again, creating a trail of flame, some of their black robes catch on fire as the cultist quickly try to put them out. In the meantime, you've shattered all the blades coming at you with St.Catherine's swing and impaled one of your opponents, its blade sinking deeply into his sternum. You kick him away, separating your sword from his heart as his flying body hits his comrades.

At this point, you notice Araquo and his men charging at them with Lera lagging behind him, about time. It only took them what? Eight seconds to stop ogling at you?

You make short work of the cultists in your way, you've lost count of how many you killed, but you know that at this point St. Catherine would've been utterly drenched in blood if it wasn't for the fire.

Someone tries to pull your cape, but you pull back, sending the offender flying towards his friends, you cut his body up mid-flight, and only his upper torso reaches his comrades. That'll teach em.

You swing, slash, and stab your way to the centre of the masked men, as their numbers slowly disintegrate before you. The Guards finally arrived, and their spears find their mark. Its a slaughter as better armed and trained men initiate a melee with the rebels. The whole bridge descends into chaos. The Tiger Cloaked Guards fight the cultists with tenacity and ruthlessness which the cultist respond with equal courage and viciousness, whilst Araquo push through their lines with ease, his claw gauntlets slashing at the poor men that dare face him. You don't see Lera anywhere, which concerns you somewhat, but you're sure that somewhere in this battlefield, she's proving her worth.

Ahhh, nothing gets you going more than complete and total destruction. The smell of fresh blood leaking out of the wounds, the screams of agony and hatred between the men, and the sight of your flaming sword, you revel in it. You love every second of this fight, its perfect for a damned woman like you, to keep on killing and killing until you have no more strength left, that is your purpose. A purpose you're fulfilling quite well.

You're Jeanne D'arc, France's saviour and its conqueror. You are its saint and its witch, the protector and the despoiler, the hero and the villain. For you, a revolt on this scale is a trivial matter. These mobs are not the English Knights you've faced, they lack the organization and the strength, and they will fall.

You think you've adopted an ear-splitting smile though you don't really know for sure, all your focus is on the enemy in front of you. You've lost track of time, and the sounds of the world are all muffled to you. You think you've killed two hundred so far, maybe even three but you don't know for sure. What you do know is that a sword enveloped by fire hot enough to melt stone wielded by a powerful servant can cut really really good.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are Lera Stassaris, and this is your first battle. From seeing your lady's flaming sword, her first kills, and the uncomfortably loud sound of men shouting at the top of their lungs...saying that you're bewildered would be an understatement. Instead, you are numb and lost in the middle of it all.

You find a cultist isolated from his group, and he spots you too, you hope your short time training with Arturia will allow you to survive as the guards around you seem occupied. He approaches you quickly like a man possessed, wielding a sword shorter than yours. Your mind races a mile a minute before you get into a stance the knight taught you earlier today.

The man gets ever closer, and it makes you sweat. The only time you've faced someone with killing intent was the day you became a slave, facing that killing intent now makes you tremble. You think you would've stood still in shock until you remember Arturia's words from this morning.

"Remember Lera" The memory of her speaks to you directly, "You're a woman, which is already a disadvantage. You'll be the weakest in the battlefield full of much stronger men, so don't bother with overwhelming your opponent cause your physique will not cut it. Instead, learn to redirect your opponent's strength, make their power their weakness. So Learn to parry. Now watch"

You come back to the present as the man initiates an overhead swing onto you as you move to intercept. You pretend that his steel blade was Arturia's wooden sword as her words come back to you, "hold your sword horizontally as it comes down to you. The trick is to tilt your sword to redirect his slash, like so." The clanking of metal meeting metal outright deafens you, but you follow Arturia's advice and tilt. His sword falls off to the side as he is left vulnerable. "Then you can follow this up by hitting your opponent with the hilt of your sword." The cultist stands in a daze after you hit him with your sword's hilt, he tries to come towards you, but he stumbles a bit and nearly falls. "Then rotate your sword, so the handle faces you rather than him and transition into the Hanging Right Stance. It is at this point that you could stab effectively, disabling him." Your blade sinks into his clavicle as he spits blood out of his mask. He holds your sword tightly and tries to pull it out, but you sink it deeper as his grip goes slack. He tenses up for a moment before collapsing like a ragdoll as you work to remove the long sword from his body. A part of you feels sick at the sight and the fact that you've killed a man.

The moment you extract your sword, something hits you at the ribs HARD. You stumble and fall, grasping at your sides in pain. Even with all that armour, that hit was the most painful thing you've felt in your life. Your right side burns with hot searing pain, and you squirm needlessly, hoping that if you twist into the correct position, the pain would just stop.

Your mind is addled with agony, and in it, you catch a glimpse of a masked man looking down on you, hammer in hand. You notice that your armour is dented and that you could barely move without causing the pain to flare up even more. The man approaches you quickly and lifts his hammer before bringing it down.

It lands on your abdomen as you jerk up in pain. You faintly hear the ringing of metal after the hit.

You hear the cultist grunts as he hefts his hammer up for a second time, you think he's gonna aim for your head. This is it. This is how you die. A messy death in the middle of Market Bridge. Despite how much it hurts, you can't help to grin. At least you'll die free, at least you didn't waste away in some savage tent made by pillagers, slavers, and rapers. It's stupid, and It's ironic, but you feel lucky to spend these last days trekking down to Volantis and exploring the city. You just wished it would've lasted longer.

You hear someone shout and the mask man's choked screams. You painfully move your hair away to see a spear jutting out of your attacker's throat. The spear is removed as the man loses his grip on the hammer and the both he and the weapon fall.

You see someone with a tiger helm and chainmail approach you. He offers his arm as you slowly reach for it. You're pulled up slowly, the pain on your sides and abdomen still burns scalding hot. He pats your shoulder before giving you your longsword. You could barely stand much less hold a sword, but you manage like you always do.

The fact that you're still alive hasn't sunk in yet, and you looked at him listlessly. You look at the trail of dead guardsmen behind your saviour, some of their heads are smashed while the other corpses have heavily dented armour. Was this caused by that hammer-wielding man you faced? Did he go on a frenzy and you just happen to be on his way? Suddenly you feel lucky you're wearing full plate armour because if you were wearing anything else, you would share the same fate as those corpses wearing only chainmail.

"(I'll get you help)" He says in Valyrian, and right now, you just want to hug him and chant; thank you again and again until he grows sick of hearing it. You don't even get the chance, as darkness succumbs your vision.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You're Jeanne d'Arc, and you're standing atop a pile of dead cultists. Your black armour is drenched in red and your hair too. The main force is gone, now there are just stragglers waiting to be culled by the guard.

You hear someone wade through the mess you've made; you look back to see Araquo walking with a limp and sporting some wounds on his shoulders. He stares at you with wide eyes. "That was eight hundred men, and you took on nearly half of them, or maybe even more." He says.

"I just got reckless," You say in between breaths, " some of em got lucky," You move your cape to show him the cuts on your thigh and the wounds on your forearm.

Araquo shakes his head, "Those are just light wounds. My lady"

"Don't call me that" you chastise him, "It's Jeanne."

Araquo nods, "Jeanne, you're a goddess on the battlefield."

You'd chastise him again for calling you a goddess, but he seems to be in some sort of trance right now, and you don't think anything you'll say on the contrary would penetrate his thick head.

You spot one of the Guards run towards you two, wading through the dead bodies. You wonder how the clean up will look like. "My lords," the guard says when he arrives, you grimace a bit at the way he addresses you, "The battle is won sir, the bridge is ours. Now all that is left is killing the ones hiding here like rats." Araquo nods at that, smiling a bit. "We also had reports that some of the men searching in the buildings have mainly found merchants and freedmen; they have not encountered any rebels, yet."

You choose this time to speak, "What of the wounded? The casualties?"

"Out of 700 men, 20 died, and 30 were wounded. Amazing numbers considering the volume of the rebel force."

"And what of Lera, the girl that was with me?"

"She has suffered major wounds and is being taken care of in the newly established encampment."

Damn, damn damn damn. You had thought Lera at least had some safety due to her proximity with the guards, but you guess they were just too incompetent. Araquo looks at you worriedly; you must be making a very serious expression.

It looks like the situation has changed, you were hoping Lera would come with you to establish order since you didn't know the language. But now, madness, just madness.

what to do...


	24. Volantis Revolt V

[X] Go straight ahead to Bridgeton, you only need to pacify the rebels.  
\--[X] Keep an eye out for a rebel leader. Mobs almost always fall apart after killing the leader.  
\--[X] check on Lera before leaving  
\--[X] Take one of Araquo's men to help you translate. (if there are any that could speak your language, requires rolling)  
[X] Angry, both at those who did it and at you for letting it happen

You spot one of the Guards run towards you two, wading through the dead bodies. You wonder how the clean up will look like. "My lords," the guard says when he arrives, you grimace a bit at the way he addresses you, "The battle is won sir, the bridge is ours. Now all that is left is killing the ones hiding here like rats." Araquo nods at that, smiling a bit. "We also had reports that some of the men searching in the buildings have mainly found merchants and freedmen; they have not encountered any rebels, yet."

You choose this time to speak, "What of the wounded? The casualties?"

"Out of 700 men, 20 died, and 30 were wounded. Amazing numbers considering the volume of the rebel force."

"And what of Lera, the girl that was with me?"

"She has suffered major wounds and is being taken care of in the newly established encampment."

Damn, damn damn damn. You had thought Lera at least had some safety due to her proximity with the guards, but you guess they were just too incompetent. Araquo looks at you worriedly; you must be making a grave expression.

It looks like the situation has changed, you were hoping Lera would come with you to establish order since you didn't know the language. But now, madness, just madness.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stupid Stupid Stupid Stupid! You shouldn't have rushed into the mob like that; instead, you should've at least been near her. Now you've got your only help to communicate with the common Volantenes gone. What the hell were you thinking to bring her into a battle after her first training session? She could be dying for all you know now, because of your recklessness.

Araquo steps back in fear as you blur, moving as fast as your material body can, pushing it to the limit. You leap past the dead guardsmen and slaughtered rebels, the wind at your face in full force. You ignore it and run. The buildings and the bodies begin to distort as you go faster and faster.

You don't how long you've been dashing towards the other end of the bridge, seconds? Minutes maybe? Whichever the case, you arrive and is treated with the sight of hastily made tents, each filled to the brim with casualties. You hear the screaming of men being amputated, the wailing of the heavily wounded, and the groans of everyone else. The air gives off the smell of fresh blood, and burnt wood made even worse by the hot summer sun.

The encampment is located on the centre of one of the Long Bridge's many plazas, with the ransacked shops and taverns becoming the shelter of the resting uninjured soldiers. At the edges of the small encampment are the bodies of the dead put into a neat row and covered by sheets of cloth. Several men kneel there, honouring their comrades, trained men who were given the ill fate of not being able to die gloriously.

You pull one of the guardsmen towards you, a seemingly uninjured tan man, "Where is Lera?!" you question. He looks at you startled before he stutters out a response.

"Vhere izzz- Lera?" Tch, of course he wouldn't understand, the hell's with you today you idiot! You're in Volantis! Not some English town!

Guess you have to find her the hard way, you dash from tent to tent, shoving men away. There's an increase in chatter between the soldiers as they see you push their fellow comrades away. Your actions seem to be creating a sort of disruption.

It doesn't last long as you find Lera's tent in mere moments, her unarmoured form laid neatly on the bed, which is placed between two other beds. You're relieved to see the rising and falling of her chest, indicating that she's at least not dead. You walk up to her bedside and crouch down, as your eyes scrutinized her body for any kind of injury. You notice her breath is haggard.

"You won't find any visible wounds on the girl" A woman's voice pops out behind you, "It is the wounds inside that you need to worry about." You look back to see a woman dressed in red garbs. Her lips small and her eyes too. Her expression is solemn, complemented by her gaunt face. If you didn't know any better, you would've thought this woman to be Chinese or Japanese. But, well... you do know better, and you assume this woman must be from this mythical land of Yi Ti that Lera has been telling you about, if not of origin, then of descent.

"How is her condition?"

"Her ribs are broken, in pieces. She has sustained many a blunt hit, which is a miracle that she was able to survive. She'll live, but she'll need rest, she won't be very active for some time. I've given her an essence of Nightshade and the Milk of the Poppy, so the pain won't disturb her sleep."

You nod at that, looking back at Lera. She won't be strong enough to train for weeks or months it seems, You're going to have to take care of her more so she can help you for the coming journey. You guess you can be thankful at least that she wasn't so useless as to die outright, that would've been very stupid of her. And no, you're not grinning in relief.

"Thank you, healer. For watching over her, it would not do to have my servant die in her first battle."

"Do not thank me, Wanderer, thank the Lord of Light for giving me the ability to heal this innocent soul."

You grimace. This woman must be one of those religious fanatics from the Red Temple. How disgusting, you hope her false god hasn't done anything to Lera, or you'll kill it and its followers too. If they love fire so much, then you're happy to help acquaint them with each other. These blind scum, deserving of only contempt and ridicule, you'll kill every last one of them if what she says is a lie and Lera doesn't make it. You breathe, now is not the time to be burning the ignorant, there's a revolt to stop.

You take one last look at Lera before proceeding to walk out of the tent without saying a word. The Red Priestess stops you by barring your way with an outstretched hand. It takes all of your restraint to just cut it off with St.Catherine.

"Your origin and purpose are murky when I peer into the flames oh burnt one," Oh? A clairvoyant is she? Could this be your first encounter with a mage of this world? Though the way she called you "burnt one" pisses you off," But I am able to divine the barest of hints, hints of a connection between you and other beings from around the world. Though these connections only manifest themselves in riddles, one I am not able to decrypt. But here is what I have divined of how the flames describe the beings connected to you. "Her eyes seem to glaze over as she speaks as if she was possessed.

"The demon hides her ambition  
to break The house of Azure,  
which grows desolate;  
The trader's court vacillates, and bows to her,  
Save for Quo who is a man of worth."

She pauses and takes a huge breath, as if saying these poems were a laborious thing to do. She speaks again.

"If you do not send that god to me  
I shall raise up the dead, and they will eat the living.  
I shall make the dead outnumber the living."

Then breaths again, before speaking. It becomes more apparent to you that the priest is speaking in fragments.

"Duchess of Ice  
Paid the price  
Burnt by the fire  
Of revolution's ire."

She makes a choking noise before continuing,

"Now she sleeps in an icy tomb,  
as comforting as a fleshy womb,  
For when it breaks and she is freed,  
The realms of men soon will bleed."

Then another fragment.

"I saw Sarah Good with the Devil  
I saw Goody Osburn with the Devil  
I saw Bridget Bishop with the Devil!"

and another

"  
At night I coax him  
from sleep  
rousing him  
with my mouth  
By day  
we build high brick walls  
around us  
our Babylon"

and another.

" So spake he, clouded with his own conceit,  
And hid Excalibur the second time,  
And so strode back slow to the wounded King."

Oh this one's easy, it must be about Saber.

How helpful of her and her god to give you hints of the identity of other servants, doesn't change the fact that they are scum. Though you are confused with how those riddles came into her mind. You'll have to keep an eye on her and her religion if every priestess is as clairvoyant as her, it is quite a powerful ability.

Her eyes become full of light colour as she speaks haggardly, "I do not know why, but we were meant to meet, wanderer. It is fate, The Lord deems it so. This won't be last time we'll speak."

You roll your eyes and push her aside since she has no more riddles for you. There is no time to waste, the revolt must be stopped. You'll contemplate on these riddles another time.

You step out of the tent to see a fatigued and sweating Araquo, surrounded by his men, it seems like he is giving out commands. How nice of him to try to catch up with you.

You walk towards him, and he spots your approaching form and looks at you in askance, "Lera's fine," He nods, "But most importantly, do any of your men know the common tongue? I need to borrow them to help me establish order and the safety of the civilians."

Araquo's Men's Knowledge 1D100 => 20  
Araquo's Willingness 1D100 => 68

"None of my men speaks it, they're all slaves from the east." You grimace and Araquo straightens up despite how tired he's become, "I'll come with you, but only to help you ensure the security of Bridgeton, you'll be on your own for the other districts until the Head Captain comes here."

"What about your men?"

"The commanders responsible for the docks and shipyards has arrived to this rendezvous point, it seems that they have won. I'll tell them that I'd be leaving to fulfil a secondary objective and will be back soon. I'll meet you by the archway when I'm done."

You nod at that as he leaves and his men disperse. You walk to the archway, an entrance leading to the plaza where this encampment is located, it is made of smooth stone. It doesn't take Araquo long as he meets up with you refreshed and cleaned of any blood as the two of you jogs towards Bridgeton.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
You arrive there to the sight of empty plazas and ransacked stores. Many panicked and fleeing civilians looked towards you and Araquo with relief as they are stopped in their tracks at Araquo's loud shout. He looks at you in askance.

"The Head Captain wants to set up shelters in Bridgeton to ensure the safety of the civilians and to make this revolt less messy than it already is."

Araquo nods and speaks to the crowd with his booming voice, what he said probably stirred up the group as they walk to him. The group must number in the high fifties or low sixties as you could barely see the edge of this mass of humanity. That or you're just really short.

A man in robes walks directly towards Araquo and speaks to him. The Guard Captain nods and points the crowd to an empty cluster of buildings, all of them large and ornate. They slowly walk to these buildings and enter them.

"What'd you tell them Araquo."

"One of them told me that his business is willing to shelter the oncoming fleeing civilians, but in exchange, I had to promise them that they will be safe and that we'll make sure Bridgeton is free of any rebels. Don't make me a liar Jeanne."

"I won't, any news on the adjacent districts?"

"I'll have to ask, give me a moment" Araquo walks towards the man he talked to earlier, they enter into an intense conversation before Araquo thanks him, or at least you think Araquo thanks him. He walks towards you and gives you the details, "There are two kinds of revolts around Bridgeton, one by slaves, the other by the cultists. Midtown is swarming with cultist and many men and women are being ritually slaughtered there. The South Market has been overrun by slaves, and they're massacring anyone that looks like a noble. Though there has been no news from the Guild District, the man only has hearsay from the others, some say that vile magic is taking place there, though it could just be superstition."

Where do you go first after you secure Bridgeton?


	25. Midtown Cleansing I

[X] Midtown  
\--[X] Focus on killing the cultist and their leaders  
\---[X] Don't go to the temple district.  
Number of voters: 5

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, the answer's clear, Midtown requires a purge. You'll kill every cultist in this damn city, every last one. Then you'll find yourself a boat and get your ass to Westeros and forget any of this happened. Hopefully Saber's right on the Grail's location, but if not... well you don't know what you'll do to her.

You sigh, inwardly, looking at the city proper. Columns of flame and smoke rise from the South Market, whilst the smell of blood saturates your nose...Could this be your E-Rank luck? Or just bad karma? Maybe both?

This past week has been full of nuisances, from being "summoned" here (Were you actually summoned or just transported?), to the Dothraki and that fat lumbering idiot, to saving this city full of slaver scum from fanatic scum. All in a week and a few days, give or take. If you had a real physical body, you think you might've dropped dead at this point... Unfortunately, you can't, you're a servant, and your magical energy isn't even close to depleted yet.

You look towards Araquo, clad in his tiger cloak and steel claws. A feral man in a city gone wild, his tall stature makes him stick out from the fear-stricken crowd. He's proven to be useful at least, despite being the type who thinks with his dick than his brain, which makes you tolerate him.

You open your mouth as Araquo pays close attention, "Arturia will inevitably cross Midtown, it won't do to have the "leftovers" slowing them down. I'll head there, clean the area up and save whoever I can find."

"Will you meet up with him in the Temple District?" Araquo asks.

"No," You say with finality, " my mission is to save civilians and clean up the less chaotic districts, that's why I'll investigate the other areas later, and besides, I'm sure "he" doesn't need my help."

Araquo nods and proceeds to head to the Market Bridge. You move to make one final sweep of the area before going to Midtown.

A few minutes and a couple of dead cultists later, you finish cleaning the area up and inform the old man who's giving the refugees shelter of their safety.

You dash towards Midtown, where the smell of blood is most pungent — passing through damaged storefronts and ravaged plazas, the wares of merchants strewn all over the roads and walkways. You note especially the broken collars and shackles around the area, seems the uprising is in full swing.

You arrive at Midtown in seconds and is greeted with a warm welcome. Men in robes situated in the buildings around you throw crude spears from the windows, all the while men with flails, pans, and knives come out of the woodworks running to you.

You intercept a spear by grabbing it while deflecting another; the final one misses you by a foot. You look towards one of the windows and aim; a robed man ducks down trying to get out of your sight, but he's too slow. Despite the helmet's narrow visor you know where to throw. You tense up your body, getting into throwing stance and----

Fwoooom!

The spear doesn't even reach the window but instead pierces the wooden part slightly underneath the opening. With a loud CRACK, the wood breaks and impales the man's leg as he doubles down, screaming in pain. The other two men in the windows duck down, probably to get another spear.

In the meantime, the armed men finally reach you. You count only 5 of them, which is much too little to bring you down. You thrust St.Catherine towards the one wielding a pan, and he uses it to cover his face...idiot.

St.Catherine pierces through the pan and into his helmet's visor, and before he even has the time to realise what had just happened, you kick him away, freeing your sword.

In the corner of your eye, you see a flail's round metal head coming towards you. You grab it and pull the man towards you. As he nears, you swing St.Catherine, creating a deep diagonal cut across his torso. He falls, wordlessly, chocking in his blood.

You use the momentum from St.Catherine's swing to redirect yourself to the final three combatants. You have no time for this, and with a snap of your fingers, your blade erupts in flame. You spin your fiery sword which leads to their robes catching on fire. All three men are down to the ground, struggling to fend off the flames, a futile effort.

You leave them to burn as you jump to the window occupied by one of the throwers. You aim your jump to the building's second floor and as you reach the opening a dark robed man pops out, spear in hand. You bend your knee as you ascend and deliver a well-timed kick to the jaw. The sound of broken bones is all you need to hear to know he's dead.

Through the window, you enter the room he was in; his head twisted unnaturally. You spot the bundle of spears he was using at the corner of the room and went to grab one. In the across you, a dark robed man rises out with a spear in his hand — the last one.

Again, you tense your body up while tightly grasping the newly acquired spear and throw.

The spear strikes true and brutally, its tip impaling the man's chest. The final cultist crumples and falls as you jump down to the street. The three cultists now lay still with their robes gone and their bodies charred.

This whole thing seems like an ambushed, but you don't know how they got the jump on you. It's as if these cultists were waiting specifically for you, but that no way could happen. Could it be related to that feeling you had back in your rented room?

You move onwards to the central plaza where all three roads in Midtown leads to; hopefully, you won't be ambushed this time. You decide to go there by way of roof hopping, that way you a get a better sense of the area.

You eventually reach the central plaza to see...

What the hell are you seeing?

A red pentagram in the middle, one that glistens under the sun, must be blood if it can reflect light like that. You count around 30 men grouped up in circles of varying sizes holding up candles, daggers, and barnacle swords all the while chanting in a strange language. There's a man near the centre of the bloody red star, who seems to be a leader. Arms wide and head high as if he was delivering a speech, clearly the leader. There's a bronze-skinned woman at the centre, tied up and gagged, which feels you up with anger as brings back memories of your burning. You've been tied-up by cultists too, left to die for their god; only they weren't called cultists that time, just priests and bishops.

You can't believe it, an actual ritual taking place right here.

What do you do?


	26. Midtown Cleansing II

[X] Save the Woman  
\--[X] Jump high and land near her and pick her up  
\---[X] Burn the area, wipe them all out  
\----[X] Maximum Fire Potency  
\-----[X] Move on to the next  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Yeah... You've been there before, surrounded by fanatics and madmen that wanted to sacrifice you to their god. They were are so convinced of their righteousness, so deluded by their faith, that they were blind to the horrors they have brought. They can massacre villages, kill a child, and burn a girl, yet still think of themselves as pure and honest men. And their excuse? Their justification? That a loving being from up high ordained such cruelty, and that their sins will absolve with one act of brutality. Though they never call it that, they always spin it as something good.

No...You will not have another be a sacrifice to a cruel god right in front of you. You won't have it; you will not allow it.

You clench your fists together while your legs become taut, the fibres of your muscle contracting more and more until your thighs become as hard as steel.

You jump, hard, creating cracks on the roof of the building you were on. The wind blows hard on your helm as your cape flutters wildly. You're descending fast. The cultists are interrupted from their procession and point up to you, each of them drawing some manner of weapons.

You don't know how long you've been falling, but the ground caves in as you land, stray stone blocks fly around you, kicked up by your hard landing. You're right in front of the woman and make a grab for her, but you spot the cultist leader directly beside her. You summon your lance and THRUST. The tip goes through his helm and out the other side, caked with blood and gore.

You dematerialise it and grab the woman, and jump, even harder this time. You land on another roof, but you almost slip due to its sloped shape. With your gauntlet you break her chains with a squeeze and removed the gag.

She looks at you wildly and confused, her head given little time to process what's happening.

You search for a word in Valyrian, your mind rapidly going back to Lera's lessons by the campfire. You nearly cringed at being reminded of your guide's status, and you hope for her wellbeing.

Finally, you find the word you were looking for, "Jikagon" you say it awkwardly and clumsily. The woman looks at you with confusion before nodding in understanding and running off. She nearly slips and falls but recovers. Eventually, she jumps down and leaves your sight.

With the victim saved you look back to the central plaza, with the sight of men lined up at the centre of the Pentagram, looking at you through the empty eyes of their helm.

Well, its time to cleanse this city of fanatic scum. You materialise your lance again and unfurl the flag, proudly showing the dragon sigil. It fuels you with power, and you feel the fire in you burn hotter than it ever has this past week.

The cultists group up tightly together, probably readying themselves for your charge. Fools, though it is considerate of them to cluster themselves up for you.

You reach directly from your spiritual core; hatred manifests into power, power manifests into fire. Raw, unadulterated flames bow down to your will, seeking a direction. In your heart, they create a cacophony of screams, screams of hatred, of death, of fury, and of vengeance. Now they seek to be released, the pressure mounting up, and you're happy to guide them. The flag flutters and you raise your hand, as columns of flame rise up in front of you.

Like Doberman released from the kennels, they seek their unwitting prey with furious speed. The central plaza is alight by a trail of scorching red fire, growing larger and large until it dwarves a house.

The flames shower them with its deathly embrace; men burn, screaming as their skin peels off. The Pentagram is erased, burnt away by the inferno as the cultists flail their limbs uselessly, trying to fend off the flames. It engulfs almost the entirety of the central plaza and rises higher and higher.

It's been a long time since you've indulged in your desire to burn, the sight of it feels almost therapeutic. The screams of the cultists delight you, and the image of their charred bodies makes you jump in anticipation. You keep on burning as the fire keeps on growing.

All of them are set ablaze; none are spared.

You don't know how long it took for the fire to subside, but the plaza is left barren and desolate. The only thing present is the steel weapons and the charred remains of the mad idiots.

You smile in satisfaction, with your work done you turn around in search for more targets. You should've known that some targets search for you. A large hand, sickly blue and full of barnacles comes out from under the roof and grabs your feet.

It's fast!

You are pulled down from the roof and into the ground floor, the impact nearly taking your breath out of you. But you're a servant, and you recover instantly, standing up in milliseconds in search of your assailant.

Too Late!

You see the same large hand coming towards you, and before you could respond, you are backhanded brutally. It hits you on the torso and you are sent flying, crashing through the wall and into the plaza, sending you tumbling onto the ground.

" ▂▂▃▃▅▅ーーー！！ "

Was that...a berserker?

A being breaks through the wall of the house you were in. It walks mechanically as if it were possessed. You regain your senses to take a closer look.

With the head of a squid and a body of a huge man, it is an unholy abomination, one not meant for this world. But where did it come from? It can't have come from the summoning circle you just destroyed it. Could there be more in Midtown? And does it have anything to do with what's happening in the Guild district?

What a mess...

You will your fire into the squid-man, yet it sidesteps and jumps for you. This time you're ready, and you block its fist by grabbing it. It stops it at its track as it backs off from you, staring at you with its mindless gaze.

Good, he isn't as strong as you, but he's almost as fast, he even dodged your fire attacks. You've faced worse than some summoned monster; this will be a piece of cake, you just hope that there aren't more running loose in this city.

How do you fight an enemy that's taller, larger, and more monstrous than you and who is almost as fast as you?


	27. Midtown Cleansing III

Winning votes  
[X] Use your lance to strike at it  
-[X] Engulf the entire area with fire  
Number of voters: 3  
STOP, HavocKeeper, Captain Hunt  
[X] Stab with the lance for that sweet bonus vs large (wait this isn't Warhammer)  
-[X] Try and kill it with fire (the same thing really)  
Number of voters: 1  
dat_noob1926812

With the head of a squid and a body of a huge man, it is an unholy abomination, one not meant for this world. But where did it come from? It can't have come from the summoning circle you just destroyed it. Could there be more in Midtown? And does it have anything to do with what's happening in the Guild district?

What a mess...

You will your fire into the squid-man, yet it sidesteps and jumps for you. This time you're ready, and you block its fist by grabbing it. It stops it at its track as it backs off from you, staring at you with its mindless gaze.

Good, he isn't as strong as you, but he's almost as fast, he even dodged your fire attacks. You've faced worse than some summoned monster; this will be a piece of cake, you just hope that there aren't more running loose in this city.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

You materialize your lance and point at the monstrous horror. It may not be as strong as you, but it is nearly as fast, so you remedy this with the reach of your lance. Now all you need to do is corner it or at least whittle away at it to a point where the monster cannot escape your fire.

In a blink of an eye, it disappears from your sight, though you see the small crater it left behind. You look down on the ground and see a large shadow over yours, very predictable. You parry its fist with your lance, but the beast wraps its face-tentacles on the shaft, trying to pry your lance away from you. You've got to give it credit, the monster can give a nasty pull, but like all your other foes who tried to separate you from your lance, it is destined to fail.

It should've known that you could pull it back with your superior strength, a fact that it either strangely forgot or dismisses. Either way, you pull it towards you and give it a devastating kick, bones crack as metal boot meets ribs. Though you wonder how its anatomy differs from normal humans, it is essential to know which bones to break after all.

It flies and crashes into a building as parts of the structure caves in and falls onto the squid man. You rush in to give the finishing blow, but it recovers and jumps out of the rubble, sending the wood and bricks flying. It lands right behind you and sends out a fast jab for your back. You turn around quick and use the momentum to stab at his incoming fists with your lance, the tip completely stops the jab as you penetrate its skin, the lance going through its fingers and palm. Dark blue blood drips down to the ground.

You push the lance deeper as the squid man convulses in pain, and by the time you see his free arm come at you it was already too late, BWAM, you're sent flying to the pavement as the world spins in your view. You land hard but recover and come up to stand, you look at your lance wielding hand to see the weapon missing, stuck into the beast's hand. You look up to see the beast's reach for your lance to remove it as you smile. You raise your hand up, calling forth fire to not come from you but from the lance itself. The squid goes into a spasm at the sudden increase of heat, as the hot metal melts through bone, sinew, and muscle. The burning worsens as a column of fire envelopes half of its body, where your lance is, before it jumps away, silent but in pain. Its half is charred black, and bits of its flesh has melted off, making your lance slowly fall out of it and into the ground.

You would dematerialize it and summon it back to your hand, but that would take too much time, so you make a dash for it, but the monster obstructs you as he jumps down in front of you. You summon St.Catherine in time to intercept his fist and slash at it, cutting fingers and spewing blood but it still keeps going. You block it with St.Catherine which absorbed most of the impact, luckily it didn't affect your footing, so you kick at it again and make a run for it.

The squid man is ready for your attack this time, and your metal boot strikes at his one forearm rather than his chest, which makes him skid across rather than fly, creating a trail on the brick pavement. You make it to your lance and grasp it, the shaft scorching hot but bearable thanks to your nature and the flag is intact despite being enveloped by flames.

You look balefully at the arrogant creature, to take your lance away from you isn't something you'll forgive that easily. You stare it down despite its distinct height advantage. Around you is a desolate wasteland of a plaza, purified by your fire. Though the buildings around the square lay untouched, a testament to your control over the flames. What used to be a busy centre of trade and civilian activity is now just a charred ruin, and in the middle of it all is only you and that monster waiting for the other to make a move. The sun is high but the fire and smoke blots a considerable part of the sky out, most of it from the cathedral, and some from the South Market.

The beast walks to you mindlessly and undeterred, it tenses its body up, readying itself for an all-out attack with its remaining arm. It jumps towards you much slower than before, and now you could completely predict when it will reach you. In the last second, you bring your lance up and thrust suddenly, impaling its chest and stopping its momentum. The lance is buried deep into its body as the creature struggles to get it out. You smile, it won't be going anywhere now, so you bring the full wrath of your fire as the creature is consumed by the inferno, its flesh turning into sludge, and after a few moments, even that burns away.

You look at your work, satisfied at the utter disintegration of the monster. Now it seems like you've got another objective on your belt, to find more summoning circles and monsters and neutralize them. Strangely enough, you see the corpse of the exact same beast you just fought fly towards you, a gaping hole at its chest and its head gone. It lands right in front of you with a thud, and you look towards the direction of its origin.

A dark figure appears on a roof, it jumps off and lands so hard on the ground that its feet sink into it. It walks closer to you, and as you squint you begin to recognize the figure's armour, thank goodness, Saber has arrived. You run towards her to speak, and as you arrive, you notice how much blood is on her sword, yet Saber herself seems unmarred and unhurt.

She speaks with heavy breath, " Temple district pacified, damage on the Temple is minimized, sustained moderate losses. What's the situation on your end?"

"Good, till I met these freaks," You point towards the squidman's corpse, "There was a summoning circle here, a possible connection."

"Has to be, the couple that I've killed so far were near these circles" She replies, "what happened here?" She asks while looking around the desolation.

"Found some cultists, freed their sacrifice and burned them all."

Artoria gives a double-take before massaging her temples with her clawlike gauntlets, "You mean to tell me that you killed the cultist en masse, on a summoning circle that is powered by sacrifice?" She asks with a hint of exasperation and incredulity.

You nod, a bit red on the cheeks, it's a good thing you've got a helmet on.

"Well, at least this dog can clean up her own mess."

[] Write in...(You've been letting Saber walk over you, whats your retort players? Jeanne will stay silent if there are no votes)

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Where are your soldiers?" You ask Saber.

"They've split up, some going to the Southside, while the other half is moving to station at Bridgeton through the road at Riverton. I've told them to stay away from Midtown and the other districts you're responsible for until I give further orders. Didn't want them to disturb the Pyrotechnician."

"How thoughtful of you..." You say sarcastically, typical of her to not support you with her soldiers, though it is sensible to keep them away since you were pulling out all the stops at the time. You shake your head, "So any ideas, chief?"

"Main priority should be to find any summoning circles and these freaks and eliminate them. The cultist and the safety of the civilians will be the secondary objectives. I was planning on moving straight to the Guild District together after we finish up on Midtown. Any suggestions?"


	28. Midtown Cleansing IV

[X] Plan Together, they fight crime!  
-[X] Go to a District together  
\--[X] Guildtown  
\---[X] Find out what is happening there and put an end to it. Hopefully, via murder.  
\----[X] 100 men are coming along.  
\----[X] 300 men will try to restore order in the South Market, 50 will go to the Warrens and 50 others in the Thieves Quarters to make sure those areas remain somewhat calm (and prevent rioters from South Market from spreading there)  
[X] "It was on purpose. The ones sacrificing others should be the first to burn. And their patron shortly after."  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Found some cultists, freed their sacrifice and burned them all."

Artoria gives a double-take before massaging her temples with her clawlike gauntlets, "You mean to tell me that you killed the cultist en masse, on a summoning circle that is powered by sacrifice?" She asks with a hint of exasperation and incredulity.

You nod, a bit red on the cheeks, it's a good thing you've got a helmet on.

"Well, at least this dog can clean up her own mess."

"It was on purpose." You reply back

"Was it now?" She asks incredulously, raising a single eyebrow.

"You should've seen the ritual itself, a woman at the centre with the freaks circling her. She was about to be sacrificed, and I...I couldn't let it happen under my watch. The ones sacrificing others should be the first to burn. And their patron shortly after."

"You'll kill a god?" Saber asks with incredulity.

"I've killed worse." You reply back; she still looks at you with incredulity

After a few moments, Saber nods at that, " Well at least you took responsibility for that decision, no matter how emotionally driven that choice was. Look, just learn a bit of restraint from now on Jeanne," She half raises her hand but puts it back down, strange gesture, and looks at you sternly, her eyes narrowing " the men saw a massive column of fire from this plaza, the fire-worshippers too, especially. Not only did you summon a beast, but you have my people asking some unfortunate questions. Questions of gods and magic, chances are, those same men will spread rumours of a great pillar of fire, then, sure enough, the whole city would know of it, creating a legend originating from you. Will you take responsibility for that too?"

You reply, a bit frustrated, " Couldn't you just cover it up? Fires constantly happen during revolts; it wouldn't be strange to have some be conjured up during the fighting."

"Yes, only, Midtown wasn't where most of the fighting took place, and the flames you've made, Jeanne, are unique, no natural fire burns that bright and that tall."

You reply vehemently, "Then what about you? A young "man" who can fight with the strength of 10 others, who happens to be very skilled in leadership, wields a glowing black and red sword, and to top it off, suddenly manages to become the head of the city's guard even if its a temporary job. Doesn't that invoke questions too? Don't the men look at you with fear and curiosity? Don't they talk of you behind your back?"

"Everyday" Saber speaks with finality and narrowed eyes, "I've assuaged some of their fears and satiated their curiosities, but even still they question me. Besides, I don't need to rely on my strength and noble phantasm to win the day, my skill alone puts me heads and shoulders above anyone else. The men think I'm an up and coming prodigy, not some reincarnation of a hero with magical powers; I'd like for them to keep thinking that, or else we'll have more of the locals be involved in this peculiar Grail War. So I'll be grateful if you do the same, don't rely on your full set of skills given to you by the Grail, or you'll bring more people into this war."

You nod that, somewhat satisfied, though in your head you remark on the fact that Arturia has called you by your name more times than she called you "dog"...you wonder if that means something...or nothing at all really.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Main priority should be to find any summoning circles and these freaks and eliminate them. The cultist and the safety of the civilians will be the secondary objectives. I was planning on moving straight to the Guild District together after we finish up on Midtown. Any suggestions?"

You nod at Saber as the two of you begin to move towards Bridgeton, two heroic spirits of separate times conversing with one another. A strange and a peculiar thought.

You speak of your plans to Saber, "I agree, the two of us are prepared for any dangers in the Guild District than anyone here if there are any more of those Squidmen, we can cut them down before they do any damage anywhere else. Though I'd prefer it if we have a hundred of your men come with us. "

"You sure about that?" Saber asks sceptically, "You'd have them see these monsters firsthand?"

"In the case that they do, they'd be most likely dead. Besides, we need these men to secure the area properly; it can't just be the two of us there to pacify the district ourselves. Our jobs are monster hunting and investigation, not pacification of the area; it would take too much time."

"Yes, I see that, but what if the majority of the hundred men with us see these monsters and live to tell the tale?"

"We'll deal with that bridge when we cross it, now for the other four hundred...three scores of men should deal with the slave revolt at the South-Market, fifty men will secure the Warrens, and another fifty will secure Rat Towne."

Saber sighs at that, " If it weren't for these monsters I would've suggested that one of us go to the SouthMarket. Just three hundred men alone, without our support, would still be able to enforce the law, but they do it much slower without us. "

"Which means fewer supplies and crew for ships bound to Sunspear?"

Saber nods, " Which is why we must deal with the situation at hand with expedience. I trust the men will do their jobs in the SouthMarket, just not good enough. Though I must commend your suggestion of bringing a hundred men with us, it would most definitely speed things up. Though I am still concerned of them seeing these squid-creatures, oh well." At that, she scoffs to herself and keeps on moving with you. "At least this dog can think up basic tactics"  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You arrive at the main camp with due haste, the camp is located in the same area you liberated when you first came here. What was once an empty plaza is now filled with wagons, supplies, and makeshift tents. You forget how big this revolt is until you see the amount of effort the Guard regiments are putting into this operation. A city in chaos needs order, and that can only happen with the help of thousands of armed men, especially to a city of Volantis's size

You see the old man from before talking to a tall captain from a distance as you and Arturia move towards the enormous makeshift tent in the plaza. Immediately you see the amount respect the guard regiments give her as the men who guard the supplies stop their conversation to stand at attention, men moving wheelbarrows and crates drop them to salute their commander, and the captains who're busily ordering the troops stop to look at her.

What kind of impression has she made on the locals? Immediately you see the captains move towards their commander with haste.

The first to arrive is a short but well-built man of broad shoulders and a gruff look. Scars litter his bronze face of a rough complexion, his skin resembling that of sandpaper. His armour is plain and practical, with the same tiger cloak as every guard has, and attached to his back is a short spear with a bloody tip. The helmet he wears is conical and covering down to his eyebrows and ears. He stands resolute and dutiful.

"Commander" he speaks with a raspy voice, his tone is of reverence towards Arturia.

Saber nods at him, " Good to see you, Vogys."

"Likewise."

Another man arrives, he is of average height, taller than you and Vogys, and much slimmer too, like a twig. He wears no helmet, and his hair is raven black and curly. The hair reaches to the scruff of his neck and is wildly arranged as if he never bother to wash his hair and groom himself. He wears a relaxed grin on his rather smooth and tanned face, though you note how "triangular" his nose is. You've never seen something so...geometric on any man's face; Da Vinci would be ecstatic to see this.

The man wears light leather armour that exposes his midriff, though strangely enough, he isn't wearing a tiger cloak but rather a tiger bandana tied around his head, and around his waist are two daggers of exceptional quality.

He doesn't jog but saunters towards Arturia with a cocksure attitude and speaks with the voice of a tenor, "If it isn't the hero of the day!" he exclaims, " We searched for you when we marched here, were you stealing all the glory again oh commander of ours? A detour with your lady-friend perhaps?"

You hate him already, maybe you're too easily annoyed or quick to judge, but the way he speaks just rankles you in some sort of way. You'd burn him just for existing if it wasn't for Arturia at your side and your newfound restraint.

Vogys chimes in with a "Quite you!" which brings out a chuckle from the relaxed man.

Arturia responds with no hint of emotion in her voice, "There was much glory to be had in the temple, Sallo. It just happens that you weren't able to gain any."

"Oh? I know you're quite new to this position commander, but the last man to call me "incompetent." had all his guts spill out to the river right there." He points to the direction of the Market Bridge, "You fight really well Arturia, but I've studied your every move during the battle, and you're full of openings I must say."

Ah, he's an idiot too!

Arturia raises her eyebrow as you feel the air cloying with tension. You realize that Arturia's expression resembles that of a man contemplating whether a bug should be smashed or not. Before any blades could be drawn, another captain arrives, the same captain who was conversing with the old from before.

"We'll have a "talk" after this Sallo," Arturia warns as she swivels her head towards the newly arrived captain.

A closer look makes you realize that he was the same man who debriefed the whole situation before, in the government's building. He is much shorter than Sallo, but his body is much more defined. Under his large beard is a muscular neck, the face above it is rough of complexion, harsher than that of Vogys's. He sports narrow eyes and brown hair, though you note the one scar going across his left eye.

He wears a heavy suit of plate armour, complete with a tiger cloak and a two-sided battleaxe attached to the back. There are no decorations on any of his armour pieces.

He speaks with the same baritone you've heard from before, "Commander." he speaks tersely.

"Good, now that you're here Adario, we can start..." Arturia explains the situation at hand and her plans so far.

After the debriefing Vogys makes his request known, " I would like to lead the men to the SouthMarket, I feel that my skills will be most effective in that area. "

Sallo chimes in, "Well colour me surprised commander, how nice of you to dump the hard work on us so we can earn a name for ourselves. I pity the man who'll accompany you to the Guild District though, the cultist are all but gone and fighting the stragglers isn't glorious at all! I believe I should lead the charge to SouthMarket very much rather than this half-wit." He smiles satisfactorily but under that smile hints of a threat of what could occur if he didn't get what he wants.

"Forgive me but a quick question." Adario speaks abruptly, "Are you two...siblings? " He points at the two of you "Twins perhaps? I must say, the resemblance is uncanny..."

"I've been wondering that too..." Vogys speaks inquisitively, while Sallo cups his chin and "hmms"

What do you respond to that?  
[] Write-in

There are three captains that you can assign to a mission.

Vogys: The man's tactics are simple and straight forward, though he has a penchant for excessive brutality. His men are heavily armoured and well discipline, though they can be utter zealots when it comes to orders. Expect a massacre occurring wherever he goes, but he is effective in enforcing law and stability. Maybe a little too good.

Sallo: The man is cunning and sly, though he tends to be cocky and overambitious. His men wear light armour and are elites in reconnaissance and are very skilled with light weapons. They can cover fast tracts of land fast and are highly mobile and manoeuvrable. Though the men are undiscipline but highly independent. Expect expert killers doing what they do best, killing. But only killing. Possible chance of several parts of the city to be ransacked and looted by some rogue elements of Sallo's regiments.

Adario: The shining star of Volantis's guard captains. The man steadily rose from the lowest rank to that of a captain and was the most popular of all the other captains, before his star was eclipsed by Saber's. The man has a good relationship with his troops and is a skilled leader; thus his men are resistant to morale shocks. Not only that, but he is adaptive and cunning. Expect him to fulfill your orders to the fullest, and adapt when the situation changes drastically.

Assign these three commanders to a mission.


	29. Cleaning Up The Guilds I

SouthMarket Pacification  
\---[X] Adario  
Rat Towne and Warrens Pacification  
\---[X] Vogys  
Guild District Escort  
\---[X] Sallo  
No. of Votes —> 6  
[X] "Are you warriors or gossiping wives at the market?" Ignore the whole thing after that.  
No. of Votes ——> 3

"Forgive me but a quick question." Adario speaks abruptly, "Are you two...siblings? " He points at the two of you "Twins perhaps? I must say, the resemblance is uncanny..."

"I've been wondering that too..." Vogys speaks inquisitively, while Sallo cups his chin and "hmms."

Ughhh, couldn't they have chosen an even worse time to ask this? Can't they just wait until after the battle? Was this what Saber meant when she spoke of being questioned still, even after satiating their curiosities, are the two of you so enigmatic as to invoke questions no matter the circumstance? Bah, idiots the lot of them.

You raise your eyebrows and look at them condescendingly, "Are you warriors or gossiping wives at the market?"

The men are somewhat taken aback, while Sallo rubs his chin, "Is it a yes or no?"

Arturia ends the line of questioning with an authoritative voice, "There's a time and place for this." The three captains nod and listen attentively, " Now, for your assignments." The pale-faced ex-king turns to the shortest of the captains, Vogys, " You will pacify Rat Towne and the districts around it."

Vogys stirs in confusion and frustration, "But sir---"

Saber interrupts him with a no-nonsense tone, " Shush, my word is final. You will take a hundred men into the area, and you will fulfil your orders to the best of your ability, am I understood?"

Vogys nods meekly, "Yes sir..."

Arturia nod, her face betraying no emotion, "Good. She turns the Sallo to give the order, but it's him that speaks first.

He speaks excitedly and assuredly, "Thank you, commander! I knew you and I would see eye to eye. By the time I'm done, the South Market will be----" Arturia interrupts him abruptly.

"Will be looted, razed, and its people violated." Sallo adopts a surprised look upon his face, "Don't jest with me, monkey, your assignment is to escort me and dynamite here" She points at you, as you raise your eyebrow in confusion. Dynamite? Did she misspeak? It seems the men too cannot comprehend what she had just said. She continues, "To the Guild District and rid the area of the cultist's presence. Am I understood?"

Sallo stews in anger as you could feel the murderous intent coming from him. After a long pause, he speaks in a low voice, "Understood" before turning around and proceeding to walk to his regiment, Vogys follows after him.

But before Sallo could even get some distance between him and Saber, she dashes towards him and kicks the back of his knees. With a yelp of pain, Sallo falls on his back as Saber brings her sword near his neck. The air cloys with tension and murderous intent coming from the fallen black knight of England. Arturia looks down him as if he were a bug and spoke lowly, "You are dismissed when I say you are dismissed, Sallo Laernaris." The man nods, half defiant and half petrified. "I didn't even get to tell you how many men you're in charged with."

Sallo gulps before asking, "How many?" Already a small crowd of soldiers have formed around the two.

"Bring me a hundred, and make sure they're in their best behaviour, or it's your head that'll be rolling rather than these fanatic freaks were fighting."

Sallo nods before Saber grabs him by the collar and lifts him with one arm; her clawed gauntlet scratches as parts of his skin as he winces. A part of you feels satisfied at seeing him in pain, though another part just wants to burn him at this very moment. Now standing, Sallo stands taller than Saber. The Tyrant releases him from her grasp and shoos him away with her hand until his form disappears into the crowd.

The mass of soldiers around them breaks apart after Sallo leaves, as Saber turns to Adario. "Adario" She calls, and he nods "Ever since I took the reigns of the shitshow that is the Volantene guards, there are only a few men that caught my attention. You are one of them, and there is no one more qualified than you to take back the South Market." Adario nods and salutes to express his thanks, "I give you three hundred men for this endeavour, now go and wipe the stain on the Guard Division's honour."

Adario gives another enthusiastic salute and walks away, back straight and chests high.

It's at this point you chime in, grinning in satisfaction, " You know..." you say teasingly, "The incompetence of the soldiers reflects poorly on those responsible for them."

The Ice Bitch Queen grimaces, "Tch." In the corner of your eye, you see Adario stop and look back. He looks at you with a tinge of fear and concern, mainly fear for your wellbeing. "As if you know what competence is, farmgirl. And don't go talking to me about responsibility," Arturia shoots back, looking at you with narrowed eyes and a stoic look. "Witch" She calls you, spitting the word out like acid.

You come near her and lower your voice until it is but a whisper, "Your subordinates openly disobey you, they don't respect you, and the ones I've met care more about themselves than their own men. For a former king, you're quite the lousy commander to let this happen."

"Listen here, bitch." Arturia shortens the distance between the two of you, her face still stoic and her nose barely reaches up to yours. "In the first two days of my tenure as head captain, I made these rabbles into a proper unit. In two weeks, I've prevented each guard captain from backstabbing each other and gave them a singular purpose. Give me two months, and they'll be the most disciplined and skilled regiment on this planet. The fault is on them for being incompetent in the first place, before I reformed them." She pokes an index finger on your shoulder, "And call me incapable one more time, and I won't guarantee your safety from Excalibur's blade."

You restrain the urge to smile even wider now; it's nice to know how easily riled up she gets if you question her capability. An insecurity of hers perhaps? How fun. Saber's face grimaces even more, she knows she's been baited, and that fact fills you up with more joy. You'd test her patience even more, but you've got a revolt to finish.

You create some distance between her, and after a few moments of silence, you motion her to come with you. "Well, commander, we've got a revolt to destroy." You notice as you walk that Ardario seems to have disappeared...

Arturia nods, accepting the change of discussion and catches up to you before leading you to the main camp, the both of you jog at a light pace. "Let's go collect the troops before everything comes crashing down."

"It already has," You quip, the soldiers separate to make way for the both of you, your armour clinking with the sounds of individual metal plates hitting each other. "what a mess...say, what do you think made these cultists revolt in the first place?"

Saber looks towards the camp, her face adopts a focused expression, "I'm not too sure, one could say it's either to overthrow the religion or the ruling government of this city, but that doesn't make sense. There's no figurehead for the citizens to rally for, or to recognise as their new ruler, just a mass of faceless men and women. Also, The areas they attack don't seem to fit a pattern, it's all random, and coupled with the fact that they're summoning these beasts in insignificant areas of control..."

You chime in your thoughts, "It's all gratuitous, isn't it? Almost like these people just suddenly felt like rebelling. Have you captured any of them yet?"

"Gratuitos? A fancy word for a peasant," You roll your eyes at that," and yes we've captured many, but they all become unconscious during questioning. The prisoners we've interrogated had their eyes roll back, and their body slumps spinelessly." Saber narrows her eyes, "Very convenient."

What does Jeanne say about all of this?  
[] "This reeks of a Caster Servant"  
[] "Could this be the doing of a native magi?"  
[] Write in...

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You're nearing the central part of Bridgeton's camp where you see five hundred men assembled in front of the three captains. Saber holds you by the shoulder to stop you and whispers, "Jeanne, before we go, a question. It's a good thing you didn't answer the captain's inquiries of our relations; it gives us time to make for a solid cover story."

"Why do we need to answer them anyway?" You ask petulantly.

"Because these men here will start speculating, and rumours will spread, and sometimes, without an official statement, these rumours will hold the same weight as the truth."

"So...What? What's your suggestion?" You cross your arms, annoyed.

"That we pose as siblings, it would justify the previous interactions we had in front of them and explain why we associate closely with each other."

[] No, I won't play a facade just to satiate their curiosities  
[] Sure, whats our cover story?  
[] Something else, (write-in on what should your relation with Saber be known as to the guards and why?)  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Saber have collected the hundred or so men and have marched towards the Guild District. Now you and Arturia's men are situated at the crossroads east of South Market and west of the Guild District. There are four paths, three leads to the South Market while the fourth one leads directly to the Guild District. Sallo comes up from behind you and Arturia, looking quite restrained and broody.

"Say," He asks the both of you, "How're we gonna secure this?"


	30. Cleaning Up The Guilds II

[X] "This reeks of a Caster Servant"  
[X] Something else, annoying as this is you better give it some thought so as to avoid even more questions. Thinking on it, siblings don't explain your interactions well at all. A half-sister, with Saber as the legitimate child and you as the bastard daughter would fit, but you have no desire to play the bastard. "Cousins, your aunt eloped with a bard of common birth. That should explain why I'm a 'peasant' while you are obviously of noble birth." Annoying, but less annoying than other options, and it would explain both the hostility and the trust you've shown in each other.  
[X] Let Saber decide on the plan, that's her job after all. You'll just hit stuff, and maybe burn it when she's not looking.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You chime in your thoughts, "It's all gratuitous, isn't it? Almost like these people just suddenly felt like rebelling. Have you captured any of them yet?"

"Gratuitos? A fancy word for a peasant," You roll your eyes at that," and yes we've captured many, but they all become unconscious during questioning. The prisoners we've interrogated had their eyes roll back, and their body slumps spinelessly." Saber narrows her eyes, "Very convenient."

[X] "This reeks of a Caster Servant"

hmmmm...An ancient city thrown asunder by sudden rebellion, one with no cause nor reason. As if its citizen succumbed to madness, no matter if they were noble, peasant, or slave.

Could they have been influenced? By some outside force hiding in the shadows, implanting suggestion or straight up ordering them to do their bidding. It'd explain why you felt like you're being watched ever since you came back for your helmet... the monsters too...

"This reeks of a caster servant." You spit out the words like bile, the thought of some arrogant, cowardly caster servant creating this mess for whatever intricate plan they had fills you with rage. But you reign it in it... (weird... were you ever so restrained?)

Saber hmms before speaking, "Interesting claim...It'd explain the squidmen and the behaviour of the cultists..." She cups her chin, "that just leaves us with why? Why would a caster servant have anything to do with this place? Even if they're searching for the Grail, clearly there must be other methods than...this. Even if this caster were stupid or arrogant, It still wouldn't make sense..."

Both of you stew in contemplation.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
"Because these men here will start speculating, and rumours will spread, and sometimes, without an official statement, these rumours will hold the same weight as the truth."

"So...What? What's your suggestion?" You cross your arms, annoyed.

"That we pose as siblings, it would justify the previous interactions we had in front of them and explain why we associate closely with each other."

[X] Something else. Annoying as this is you better give it some thought so as to avoid even more questions. Thinking on it, siblings don't explain your interactions well at all. A half-sister, with Saber as the legitimate child and you as the bastard daughter would fit, but you have no desire to play the bastard. "Cousins, your aunt eloped with a bard of common birth. That should explain why I'm a 'peasant' while you are obviously of noble birth." Annoying, but less annoying than other options, and it would explain both the hostility and the trust you've shown in each other.

"Cousins." you say, "Cousins sounds way better. Siblings wouldn't even be close to explaining how we've interacted with each other"

"Oh?" Saber tilts her head in askance

"Well first of all, how do we justify you calling me a "witch" or "peasant" or "farmgirl" in front of your men?"

Saber nods, "Easy, you're the bastard daughter, and I'm the legitimate 'son'. Father had relations outside of marriage and you were left to be raised by his mistress. From then on till his deathbed, Father never reconciled with the guilt of leaving you there, whilst I just wanted you to disappear, being the embarrassment to the family name that you are. A perfect cover is it not? "

Someday, you'll find a way to cave in that smug face of hers, speaking with gritted teeth, you say, " I will not play the bastard."

Saber "hmphs" at that, " Fine. If it stops your incessant barking, I'm willing to listen to your plan."

You relay to Saber you cover story, she nods as she listens.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Saber have collected the hundred or so men and have marched towards the Guild District. Now you and Arturia's men are situated at the crossroads east of South Market and west of the Guild District. There are four paths, three leads to the South Market while the fourth one leads directly to the Guild District. Sallo comes up from behind you and Arturia, looking quite restrained and broody.

"Say," He asks the both of you, "How're we gonna secure this?"

[X] Let Saber decide on the plan, that's her job after all. You'll just hit stuff, and maybe burn it when she's not looking.

An Aura of command envelopes Saber, compelling the otherwise rowdy regiment to stand at attention. "Sallo, I want you and twenty of your men with us."

The men behind Sallo begin to stir as they murmur with one another. You could barely make out what they're saying.

"yeesh, looks hae se jentys issare iā ȳrda ȳrgos hubon. "  
"did ziry gaomagon bisa jēda?"  
" bartos captain vestragon morghon paktot sir, ao pendagon ziry's ribazmoqitta?"

Sallo nods, a seemingly civil gesture, you wonder if he's raging inside that lanky exterior of his. "I shall come, but why go South?"

Saber looks back at him, "Just my intuition."

Ha? Intuition? Bullshit, She doesn't have that skill anymore.

The Ex-King speaks with her booming voice, "Other than my escort, this regiment will split into four groups of twenty, one group handles escorting the civilians at the south-west, while the rest of you..." Saber pauses, searching for a word, "The rest of you handle the stragglers at the edges of this district."

Sallo voices his concern, " You mean to just have us deal with the main force? Do you have a deathwi--"

"I am sure that we will succeed against any danger we face. Sallo."

"I don't care how tough you think you are, but--"

"But you will follow orders to the fullest, also..." Saber turns to you, "A request, dear cousin."

The men, including Sallo, look back at you with wide eyes. You look towards Saber in askance.

"If Sallo ever decides to talk back, Maim him. If he decides to disobey, Kill him. If he decides to desert us, burn him."

You nod and look towards at Sallo's guarded form, "It'd be a pleasure." You say. He stares at you back, his eyes narrowed, challenging you, goading you.

The march to the destination was a tense one.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Two of Sallo's men find themselves in an empty house, they were ordered to hunt for stragglers, but they couldn't help themselves with the thought of all that loot left behind.

One of them, broad-shouldered and with a braided beard, immediately goes for a cupboard in the living room. His hands groping for any valuables to sell or keep.

The other, a long-nosed stick of a man leans on the wall, grumbling, "Who does that whoreson think he is? Commanding us like we're pigs, Someday that smug face is gonna get caved in; hah! I'll pay big money to see that."

His partner responds, still groping for any valuables, "You and every Tiger Cloak in this city."

"What the hell was Maegyr thinking?! Signing that boy up as captain, who treats everyone around him like trash! "

"uh-huh", his partner nods, moving on to another cupboard.

"Maybe it's cause he's prettier than his own wife, yeah that's gotta be it."

"Hmm"

The man sighs in resignation, shaking his head, " Novoros would've been a better alternative, even if he does have a stick up his ass." The Tiger Cloak looks back at his partner to find him gone.

"Jaegel?" He asks, "You there? I don't want you playing no games with me!"

A figure appears at the corner of his eye before he succumbs to oblivion.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
You arrive at an abandoned street and are greeted with the usual sight of ransacked stores, fallen carts, and the like. It's a weird feeling but, the air...you think it feels heavier here, somehow.

Saber half raises her hand, and everyone stops marching.

Sallo fidgets as his eyes dart around, "What do we now, commander? Just standing here makes us ripe for an ambush." He holds the hilt of his dagger tightly, his posture bent and ready to pounce...or run.

"That's the point." Saber says, drawing weird looks from the men. She points at a distant figure.

You hear the distant jingle of dangling ornaments and trinkets, the sound originating from the figure, inching closer and closer. You feel the air getting denser and denser, it's starting to take some effort standing up. Then there's that buzz in your head, like TV static, saturating your ears with its discordant sound.

You look at Saber and she nods, she hears it too. You grip St.Catherine and she grips Excalibur, both weapons humming with power, fueled by your tainted strength.

This feeling, it's just like before...Could the figure be a Caster servant? Have you entered it's territory? You hope whatever foolhardy plan Saber has will actually work.

The figure stops fifteen feet ahead of you, and you get a better look at it. A man, dressed just like the cultist, complete with helm and robes. Only, medal like necklaces hang on his neck, the amount so numerous so dense, like a waterfall of trinkets and decorations. You spot the visage of tentacles and a woman's face on some of the medals, their iconography perhaps? You'll ask Saber about it later, though you doubt she'll say anything useful.

The Man Draped in Black speaks, his voice so sharp it cuts through the silence with ease. Speaking with a reverent tone, he says, "So come the sheep, lost and seeking guidance. I shall be the Shepard to guide your way and to comfort you with divine providence."

"huh...so there is one that can talk." You hear Sallo murmur at the back. You sense the men behind him point their spears to the man with a guarded stance.

Saber moves a step forward and plants Excalibur into the bricked road, looking absolutely regal with both hands on the hilt, "Spare me the flowery words fanatic. Is this revolt your doing?"

The man sighs and shakes his head, "I should've known the futility of presenting diamonds to pigs. You philistines will never understand the salvation our cause bring."

"Get to the point. Lest you find yourself a gaping hole in your chest." Saber

"Barbarians...I have no need to enlighten you of our grand design if you are not willing to open your minds to the hidden truth." He deliberately raises his wrist and snaps his fingers. The doors from the houses around you are kicked open, row after row after row of cultist march out to surround you, "Besides, you will find your peace in the Great Beyond after your passing from this mortal plane. Rejoice, this is our mercy."

Saber Brandishes Excalibur to intimidate the growing number of enemies, while you ready yourself to burn them all. On the rooftops you notice those squidlike horrors, staring at only the two of you.

"This part of the plan Arturia?" You whisper to Saber

She nods, "Yep, but the number of squidmen they brought is quite the pleasant surprise."

"Our men will not survive this at all."

"I know, thats why I brought Sallo here."

You look back to the Captain behind you, shaking with petrified fear. The men under him shares his expression too. huh...How surprisingly petty of Saber...

Sallo could barely let out a single word "Orders?"

"We charge."


	31. Cleaning Up The Guilds III

[X] "This reeks of a Caster Servant"  
[X] Something else, annoying as this is you better give it some thought so as to avoid even more questions. Thinking on it, siblings don't explain your interactions well at all. A half-sister, with Saber as the legitimate child and you as the bastard daughter would fit, but you have no desire to play the bastard. "Cousins, your aunt eloped with a bard of common birth. That should explain why I'm a 'peasant' while you are obviously of noble birth." Annoying, but less annoying than other options, and it would explain both the hostility and the trust you've shown in each other.  
[X] Let Saber decide on the plan, that's her job after all. You'll just hit stuff, and maybe burn it when she's not looking.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You chime in your thoughts, "It's all gratuitous, isn't it? Almost like these people just suddenly felt like rebelling. Have you captured any of them yet?"

"Gratuitos? A fancy word for a peasant," You roll your eyes at that," and yes we've captured many, but they all become unconscious during questioning. The prisoners we've interrogated had their eyes roll back, and their body slumps spinelessly." Saber narrows her eyes, "Very convenient."

[X] "This reeks of a Caster Servant"

hmmmm...An ancient city thrown asunder by sudden rebellion, one with no cause nor reason. As if its citizen succumbed to madness, no matter if they were noble, peasant, or slave.

Could they have been influenced? By some outside force hiding in the shadows, implanting suggestion or straight up ordering them to do their bidding. It'd explain why you felt like you're being watched ever since you came back for your helmet... the monsters too...

"This reeks of a caster servant." You spit out the words like bile, the thought of some arrogant, cowardly caster servant creating this mess for whatever intricate plan they had fills you with rage. But you reign it in it... (weird... were you ever so restrained?)

Saber hmms before speaking, "Interesting claim...It'd explain the squidmen and the behaviour of the cultists..." She cups her chin, "that just leaves us with why? Why would a caster servant have anything to do with this place? Even if they're searching for the Grail, clearly there must be other methods than...this. Even if this caster were stupid or arrogant, It still wouldn't make sense..."

Both of you stew in contemplation.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
"Because these men here will start speculating, and rumours will spread, and sometimes, without an official statement, these rumours will hold the same weight as the truth."

"So...What? What's your suggestion?" You cross your arms, annoyed.

"That we pose as siblings, it would justify the previous interactions we had in front of them and explain why we associate closely with each other."

[X] Something else. Annoying as this is you better give it some thought so as to avoid even more questions. Thinking on it, siblings don't explain your interactions well at all. A half-sister, with Saber as the legitimate child and you as the bastard daughter would fit, but you have no desire to play the bastard. "Cousins, your aunt eloped with a bard of common birth. That should explain why I'm a 'peasant' while you are obviously of noble birth." Annoying, but less annoying than other options, and it would explain both the hostility and the trust you've shown in each other.

"Cousins." you say, "Cousins sounds way better. Siblings wouldn't even be close to explaining how we've interacted with each other"

"Oh?" Saber tilts her head in askance

"Well first of all, how do we justify you calling me a "witch" or "peasant" or "farmgirl" in front of your men?"

Saber nods, "Easy, you're the bastard daughter, and I'm the legitimate 'son'. Father had relations outside of marriage and you were left to be raised by his mistress. From then on till his deathbed, Father never reconciled with the guilt of leaving you there, whilst I just wanted you to disappear, being the embarrassment to the family name that you are. A perfect cover is it not? "

Someday, you'll find a way to cave in that smug face of hers, speaking with gritted teeth, you say, " I will not play the bastard."

Saber "hmphs" at that, " Fine. If it stops your incessant barking, I'm willing to listen to your plan."

You relay to Saber you cover story, she nods as she listens.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Saber have collected the hundred or so men and have marched towards the Guild District. Now you and Arturia's men are situated at the crossroads east of South Market and west of the Guild District. There are four paths, three leads to the South Market while the fourth one leads directly to the Guild District. Sallo comes up from behind you and Arturia, looking quite restrained and broody.

"Say," He asks the both of you, "How're we gonna secure this?"

[X] Let Saber decide on the plan, that's her job after all. You'll just hit stuff, and maybe burn it when she's not looking.

An Aura of command envelopes Saber, compelling the otherwise rowdy regiment to stand at attention. "Sallo, I want you and twenty of your men with us."

The men behind Sallo begin to stir as they murmur with one another. You could barely make out what they're saying.

"yeesh, looks hae se jentys issare iā ȳrda ȳrgos hubon. "  
"did ziry gaomagon bisa jēda?"  
" bartos captain vestragon morghon paktot sir, ao pendagon ziry's ribazmoqitta?"

Sallo nods, a seemingly civil gesture, you wonder if he's raging inside that lanky exterior of his. "I shall come, but why go South?"

Saber looks back at him, "Just my intuition."

Ha? Intuition? Bullshit, She doesn't have that skill anymore.

The Ex-King speaks with her booming voice, "Other than my escort, this regiment will split into four groups of twenty, one group handles escorting the civilians at the south-west, while the rest of you..." Saber pauses, searching for a word, "The rest of you handle the stragglers at the edges of this district."

Sallo voices his concern, " You mean to just have us deal with the main force? Do you have a deathwi--"

"I am sure that we will succeed against any danger we face. Sallo."

"I don't care how tough you think you are, but--"

"But you will follow orders to the fullest, also..." Saber turns to you, "A request, dear cousin."

The men, including Sallo, look back at you with wide eyes. You look towards Saber in askance.

"If Sallo ever decides to talk back, Maim him. If he decides to disobey, Kill him. If he decides to desert us, burn him."

You nod and look towards at Sallo's guarded form, "It'd be a pleasure." You say. He stares at you back, his eyes narrowed, challenging you, goading you.

The march to the destination was a tense one.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Two of Sallo's men find themselves in an empty house, they were ordered to hunt for stragglers, but they couldn't help themselves with the thought of all that loot left behind.

One of them, broad-shouldered and with a braided beard, immediately goes for a cupboard in the living room. His hands groping for any valuables to sell or keep.

The other, a long-nosed stick of a man leans on the wall, grumbling, "Who does that whoreson think he is? Commanding us like we're pigs, Someday that smug face is gonna get caved in; hah! I'll pay big money to see that."

His partner responds, still groping for any valuables, "You and every Tiger Cloak in this city."

"What the hell was Maegyr thinking?! Signing that boy up as captain, who treats everyone around him like trash! "

"uh-huh", his partner nods, moving on to another cupboard.

"Maybe it's cause he's prettier than his own wife, yeah that's gotta be it."

"Hmm"

The man sighs in resignation, shaking his head, " Novoros would've been a better alternative, even if he does have a stick up his ass." The Tiger Cloak looks back at his partner to find him gone.

"Jaegel?" He asks, "You there? I don't want you playing no games with me!"

A figure appears at the corner of his eye before he succumbs to oblivion.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
You arrive at an abandoned street and are greeted with the usual sight of ransacked stores, fallen carts, and the like. It's a weird feeling but, the air...you think it feels heavier here, somehow.

Saber half raises her hand, and everyone stops marching.

Sallo fidgets as his eyes dart around, "What do we now, commander? Just standing here makes us ripe for an ambush." He holds the hilt of his dagger tightly, his posture bent and ready to pounce...or run.

"That's the point." Saber says, drawing weird looks from the men. She points at a distant figure.

You hear the distant jingle of dangling ornaments and trinkets, the sound originating from the figure, inching closer and closer. You feel the air getting denser and denser, it's starting to take some effort standing up. Then there's that buzz in your head, like TV static, saturating your ears with its discordant sound.

You look at Saber and she nods, she hears it too. You grip St.Catherine and she grips Excalibur, both weapons humming with power, fueled by your tainted strength.

This feeling, it's just like before...Could the figure be a Caster servant? Have you entered it's territory? You hope whatever foolhardy plan Saber has will actually work.

The figure stops fifteen feet ahead of you, and you get a better look at it. A man, dressed just like the cultist, complete with helm and robes. Only, medal like necklaces hang on his neck, the amount so numerous so dense, like a waterfall of trinkets and decorations. You spot the visage of tentacles and a woman's face on some of the medals, their iconography perhaps? You'll ask Saber about it later, though you doubt she'll say anything useful.

The Man Draped in Black speaks, his voice so sharp it cuts through the silence with ease. Speaking with a reverent tone, he says, "So come the sheep, lost and seeking guidance. I shall be the Shepard to guide your way and to comfort you with divine providence."

"huh...so there is one that can talk." You hear Sallo murmur at the back. You sense the men behind him point their spears to the man with a guarded stance.

Saber moves a step forward and plants Excalibur into the bricked road, looking absolutely regal with both hands on the hilt, "Spare me the flowery words fanatic. Is this revolt your doing?"

The man sighs and shakes his head, "I should've known the futility of presenting diamonds to pigs. You philistines will never understand the salvation our cause bring."

"Get to the point. Lest you find yourself a gaping hole in your chest." Saber

"Barbarians...I have no need to enlighten you of our grand design if you are not willing to open your minds to the hidden truth." He deliberately raises his wrist and snaps his fingers. The doors from the houses around you are kicked open, row after row after row of cultist march out to surround you, "Besides, you will find your peace in the Great Beyond after your passing from this mortal plane. Rejoice, this is our mercy."

Saber Brandishes Excalibur to intimidate the growing number of enemies, while you ready yourself to burn them all. On the rooftops you notice those squidlike horrors, staring at only the two of you.

"This part of the plan Arturia?" You whisper to Saber

She nods, "Yep, but the number of squidmen they brought is quite the pleasant surprise."

"Our men will not survive this at all."

"I know, thats why I brought Sallo here."

You look back to the Captain behind you, shaking with petrified fear. The men under him shares his expression too. huh...How surprisingly petty of Saber...

Sallo could barely let out a single word "Orders?"

"We charge."


	32. Cleaning Up The Guilds IV

Final Vote  
Questions:  
[X] "What are your goal here, beyond chaos?"  
[X] "Tell us all you can about the one that gave you this book."  
[X] "When did you meet them, and where?"  
[X] "What did they want in exchange for the book?"

[X] What does Jeanne think of Saber's killing of Sallo?  
\--[X] Indifferent, he was just scum, so what?

[X] Your next course of action?  
\--[X] Examine the tome

"You're awake," Saber says tonelessly. "Good," she brings up her sword towards his neck, "We're not finished with you yet, rat."

The man's former bluster and fanatic zeal evaporate, replaced by that of a squirming coward. He tries crawling away from Saber, before her boot crushes his ankle. He spasms in response before steadying his breath.

"You've haven't answered all my queries yet, are you willing to cooperate?" She tortuously grinds her boot onto his robed-covered ankle.

He trembles as he speaks, trying to regain his composure "Damnation to you all, the true monsters! You demons who hide in human skin, wolves among the sheep! Our God will bring down a thousand curses upon yo--AHHHHH" The Ex-king is thin of patience as she adds pressure upon the man's ankle. "YIELD, YIELD" He beseeches, "I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING! ANYTHING!"

Satisfied, Saber removes her boot and crouches to him, her gauntlet holds him down. His breaths are rapid, a total contrast to Saber's calm ones. "You said someone gave you this tome to do "God's will", who is this someone?"

"Man" The cultist leader speaks rapidly, "A man, short, wore a helm, called himself "Romner" or the like. Gave me the book, said it will bring the Gods unto the world."

Saber nears closer to him, her indifferent stare and her yellow irises intimidate him further. "Tell. Me. Everything. You. Know. Of. Him."

There's a pause as the man slows his rapid breathing," Came to my studies one night, two other men flanked him, said he was responsible for the coming of a new dawn. I was unenlightened at the time you see, so I resisted, but he showed me the light."

"what was it you saw?"

"Mere words wouldn't do it justice…A hundred different dawns, I saw, and a hundred other stars. I saw the past, the present, and the future all at once; I saw the lines of fate intertwining into one; I saw visions of a world made barren by fire and another encased in ice. Then he spoke to me, the God amongst the stars, told me of the lies that held Man back, of the insignificance of Man's conflicts, of their worries. He told me to ascend, one must descend, and that our answers lay in the depths."

Worrisome, you think, that if what he says is true, a god is interfering with mortal affairs. If it's one of Goetia's demons, that would explain the presence of servants in this world. Or it could just be another divine spirit, but considering what its minions look like, it must be an evil one. You think back to that eerie feeling you had back in your room, the sense of your mind being probed. Could that have been the God the man had described, considering that it was able to grant him visions and led him to his path of madness. If that's true, then you'll have to stay alert of this deity from now on. It has shown that it knows you're here and has attempted to manipulate your mind. You're going to have to inform Saber of this later.

The Tyrant's inquiries continue, "Was that all your god told you?" The leader nods and Saber asks again, "I assume this "Romner" gave you your objectives?" He nods again, "What were they?"

"To drown this city so it may ascend. To use the book to command God's followers and bring a new dawn in Volantis by way of sacrifice and slaughter. And that the sacrifice would summon the Apostles that would finish our most holy design. The Apostles would've called to the sea and summon a wave to wash the city all away."

So he calls these Squidmen Apostles? How unsurprising, for religious fanatics to describe the monstrous as holy. The fact that a group of them can call down a tsunami worries you a bit. "How many of these Apostles are there in this city?"

The leader looks down, stricken by a thought, "None…" he says somberly, "you've killed them all."

Saber nod's satisfied, and she notices you come closer to him, now it's your turn to speak, "Why do these "Apostles" melt after death? The ones I killed before did not, they burned instead."

He shakes his head, "I do not know why, but it could be related to their proximity to the book."

"Idiot" Saber chastises, "To use a weapon before knowing it's full capabilities, how negligent, but that is to be expected of trash."

You continue asking, "So in exchange for the book, you were commanded to lead this revolt." He nods, "And when did you meet this man exactly?"

"Some days ago. I started preparing the moment I was given the Holy Text."

Saber nods, "That coincides with what I gathered from my investigations. I noticed four days ago of your cult's abrupt stop of their public preaching, and the fact that fewer Volanteans were roaming the street lately. Good, you're not lying."

"Did he give you specific targets?" You ask him

"Only one, the Red Temple. Romner told me that cult is an affront to our God, and must be drowned" You ask him why, but he shakes his head, unable to answer. For a devoted follower, he seems ignorant of the motivations of his deity, he follows it blindly. It appears that every devoted believer, whether they believe in a tentacled god or one of fire, are blind in some form. Allowing for their delusions to skew their view of reality.

"No matter, it explains why there were summoning circles near the Temple District." You remark, "To turn the tide of the battle with these abominations, no doubt."

This seems to get a rise out of him, "They're Apostles, holy creatures gifted to us by He Who Knows All."

Saber's Excalibur inches closer to his neck, "You're in no position to make demands, scum. Now calm yourself, or I'll kill you."

The man cowers at Saber's threat and breathes calmly.

"What're we gonna do to him?" You ask Saber.

"Bring him to our rooms for further interrogation, just don't let him be seen. The supernatural is involved in this, so it becomes our matter now, which means that the mundanes of this city must not know of the magecraft that took place here." She looks at the tome and to its former wielder, "Besides, we need to examine this tome first before planning on a course of action."

The man freezes and stares at Saber, gone are the nervous mannerism he once had, replaced by a man ready to pounce. Both you and Saber notice it, the change in the man reminds the two of you of a possession occurring, you've seen enough to know. Sensing the newfound killing intent, Saber readies to stab at him, but he lunges first towards the tome, embedding Excalibur into his sternum by his own volition. With a swing, St.Catherine cuts his approaching arm off, but the dismembered limb flies towards the tome and grasps it as if having a mind of its own. You can barely notice a thin line of mauve light connecting the dismembered limb to his newly formed stump.

The man now missing a limb and a sword in his chest perform a quick chant now that the separated arm grips at the book. "cahf ot hh' ah, ah mg ahog" he speaks in his garbled tongue as a purple light envelops the tome. Both you and the Ex-king share a look of comprehension and surprise. Inwardly you wince, you should've burned him sooner!

Saber lifts her Excalibur up, cutting the man from his sternum to his head, splitting apart his helmed face and thorax. The chanting leader falls like a puppet without its strings, yet the light enveloping the book increases in intensity. The King of Knights quickly throws the tome away but is too late. The book, now mere inches away from its thrower, becomes blindingly bright as it readies to explode. You don't know how big the blast will be, but its best not to underestimate.

You know you have the agility to outrun it, but not Saber. The Ex-King has to face the brunt of the blast, which can be manageable considering her A rank strength and Endurance. Hell, her legend has her survive Vortigern's flame for crying out loud, but you don't want to take your chances. This is an explosion powered by a Divine Spirit if your suspicions are correct, and Saber's stats might not matter at all against it.

You can push her out of the way, and face the brunt of the explosion with Ephemeral Dream A. You just have to hope there aren't any unique properties in that blast that could nullify your invincibility. Or you could carry Saber with you and hope she doesn't slow you down so much as to prevent the both of you from escaping the blast, though it might mitigate its damage. You wince, what to do…


	33. Volantis Revolt End

[X] Push her away, use all your might to push her away as far as you can and face the blast with Ephemeral Dream A.

You know you have the agility to outrun it, but not Saber. The Ex-King has to face the brunt of the blast, which can be manageable considering her A rank strength and Endurance. Hell, her legend has her survive Vortigern's flame for crying out loud, but you don't want to take your chances. This is an explosion powered by a Divine Spirit if your suspicions are correct, and Saber's stats might not matter at all against it.

You can push her out of the way, and face the brunt of the explosion with Ephemeral Dream A. You just have to hope there aren't any unique properties in that blast that could nullify your invincibility. Or you could carry Saber with you and hope she doesn't slow you down so much as to prevent the both of you from escaping the blast, though it might mitigate its damage. You wince, what to do…

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You never thought you'd do it, to make the sacrifice play, to take the hit for someone else. But here you are, hands holding onto Saber's arms, her wide yellow eyes look at you with surprise and incomprehension as you heave her away. Though to be fair, you've got a skill to make you invincible against all kinds of damage, a skill that comes from the very essence of your existence.

You're a ghost, no worse than that, you're a fictional character. A shadow of someone greater, and the only reason why you're still here is through your resolve and the alteration of your counterpart's wish. Every use of Ephemeral Dream A reminds you of that, and you're filled with the gnawing sense that sooner or late, you're going to have to wake up. That you would return to being a concept once gain. Your defiance against the order of the world, or at least the world you've originated from, is temporary. Sooner or later, you will become immaterial yet again, where beings like you belong. But that is neither here nor there, and you've got a king to hurl.  
This life is but a dream, an ephemeral one. Your time here is short.

"Mad do--" Is all the words Saber could utter before she is launched out of the way. Crashing and going through several buildings, some of them fall, and some of them stand. You smirk to yourself, now we're even.

You turn your head back to brightening tome and try calculating if you could dash out in time too. During that split second of planning the book erupts into a furious, purple blast, with you right at the centre of it.

Well so much for dashing out, Ephemeral Dream A takes effect as you feel your body border between existence and non-existence. You let the purple blast wash over you, feeling the scorching heat envelop your body. You're invincible against it, the blast cannot hurt you now obviously, but that burning sensation is still there.

The world around you becomes saturated in bright purple. You're blinded by the light but can't bring yourself to close your eyes, it's just so captivating.

Eventually the light dissipates, and you momentarily see flashes of stars, nebulas, and galaxies. You're eyes widen as you take all of it in, transfixed on the images assaulting your mind. You don't understand what you're seeing, as the celestial bodies appear without order and reason. But one image sticks out from the rest despite seeing just a glimpse of it, a world with a white throne at its centre.

The Time Temple...

It's not really something you'd forget. Though why it would appear before you, as one of many other flashing images, you don't really know. Saber needs to know of this, and Lera too, once you've briefed her on your nature.

You feel a tug at your arm but you can't bring yourself to look back, unable to tear yourself away from the bright light. You feel a presence at the edge of your before something pulls you physically, making you fall on your butt as you escape the trance.

The visions disappear and all you see is the Tyrant looking down on you. Her eyes meet yours as her face remains impassive, unreadable. She brings out her hand towards you and you grasp it, bringing yourself up with Sabers help.

You glance around and realize the both of you are in a deep crater, with the flat unaffected ground located two heads above you. The area you're on shines a sickly purple, charred by the blast, it radiates with malevolent energy. With a nod Saber jumps out as you follow her. You notice that the many corpses from the previous battle have been disintegrated. Now, all that's left is just a crater, the only physical reminder of a fight taking place.

"What?" You say indignantly, "Not even a thank you?"

Saber looks back, " There was no need to save me, I've survived explosions ten times that size. But if you wanted to waste your prana then go-ahead."

"There was no way you would've known how strong the blast would be. What if it was one you couldn't handle? Better I take it than you do. "

"An explosion that could overpower my endurance and magical resistance is a rare thing. The chances are slim, and from what I've seen of this world, which is exponentially more than you have, it should not be possible. The natives here simply lack the capability for it, whether they are Qarthian warlocks or Red Priestesses, their magic cannot harm me no matter how esoteric they are."

This is beginning to test your already thin patience, what's her deal anyway? Is this from some kind of insecurity? That'd be really pathetic. Though what's more pathetic is her arrogance, so blindingly absolute and ironclad.

"Then how do you explain these cultists---You know what nevermind, it's a waste of breath trying to convince you. Hmph, as if I needed your gratitude, should've left you for dead. " you pinch your nose to ease your bubbling anger and keep it from rising to the surface. This isn't the time for a discussion like this, and you've got a city to clean up. Maybe later, but now, there is only one objective.

You breathe slowly in an effort to calm yourself. You speak after a pause, "I'm sure you would be very interested in the things I saw in that explosion."

Saber raises an eyebrow at your abrupt change of subject, "Do tell."

"I saw images of worlds different from our own. I didn't notice any subliminal messages, so I'm confident I was not brainwashed or something of the sort."

"The point, please."

"In one of the images I saw Solomon's throne, it was just a glimpse, but I'm sure of it. The sight of it isn't something I would forget that easily."

Saber's eyes widen momentarily before she looks up to the sky in contemplation. "This has worrisome implications, Jeanne. But it definitely adds credence to my suspicions. The whole revolt must be the work of a caster or a being with ties to our world, yet the reasons still elude me."

"All we know is that the leaders of these cultists are doing this to bring about" You speak mockingly and with air-quotes, ""the new dawn" or some nonsense like that. Which hints that whoever is behind them wants to uproot this world's order, it's just the specifics and the "who" that we're missing."

Saber nods, " Whichever the case, we need perspective, lest we keep flailing in the dark like this. Let's continue this discussion for another time, now we must go back to our camp and plan out our course of action."

"hm" You nod and follow Saber's lead back to camp.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------  
Both you and Saber return to an overcrowded camp with three regiments resting in it. You and Saber are accompanied by the remnants of Sallo's regiment, the rest killed by the cultists or executed by Saber when they told her of the squidmen. "Those men are liabilities." Saber would say, as she impaled them in hidden areas, out of sight, out of mind. The remaining few that are with you are ignorant of how their comrade's death and of the squidmen. Luckily, there's a slim chance of any civilian witnesses, to your relief. Many of the residents have either fled out before any squidmen were summoned, or were used as sacrifice.

Either way, the supernatural element of this revolt has been, for the most part, successfully covered up thanks to your actions and Saber's thoroughness.

The walk back to the central tent was arduous, the casualties, both wounded and dead, lay at the ground with teams of two to three men attending to them. Soldiers circulate around the camp, fulfilling their individual orders and obstructing your path from time to time.

You eventually reach the tent with Saber and enter while the remnants of Sallo's regiment wait outside. The room you enter is, for lack of a better word, messy. A large table at the center with the city's map on top of it is littered by scrolls and other pieces of paper, concealing the map. There are helmets, armour pieces, and even swords laying about on the ground accompanied by empty flasks. Overall, the tent is a step dirtier than the French tents you've been, certainly doesn't compare to Chaldea's pre-fabricated tents. You wonder how it compares to the tents of Arturia's armies though, is it a world of difference or not?...you shake those thoughts away as you focus on the residents of this command tent.

Vogys stands next to Adario as the latter appears to be lecturing the former, though you can't comprehend it since they're speaking in Valyrian. To your surprise you see Araquo sitting in the corner of the tent, balancing a knife on the tip of his fingers. He spots you, and you see a look of excitement and apprehension on his face. The feral man becomes more apprehensive when he sees Saber next to you, and straightens up, giving her a salute.

Both Adario and Vogys notices the two of you and gives off crisps salutes.

Adario is the first to speak, "Head Captain, it's good to see you. I trust that the Guild District has been rid of Cultists?"

"Yes. Their leader was stationed there too, he's dead now and the cultists have scattered, but I've gained some useful knowledge out of him. But first, report."

Araquo walks closer to the table at the centre of the tent and stops at the side nearest to you. Adario meanwhile looks at Vogys in exasperation.

Vogys sighs and proceeds to explain, "Fine, I'll start, bloody prick" Vogys composes himself before reporting, "The cancerous elements of this city--" Adario interrupts Vogys with a cough, making the latter sigh yet again. "The Rat Towne and Warren districts have been successfully pacified, but my forces have sustained massive casualties."

Araquo winces while Saber raises her eyebrow, Vogys continues, speaking more slowly and with a hint of embarrassment seeping into his tone "The residents were resistant to my...methods, and I was soon faced against not just the common thief, but organized mercenaries and the like. Even had some civilians join in to throw rocks at my men and me."

"Why is that so?" Saber asks. "Your mission was by far the easiest to accomplish. Simple enforcement of the law and the reassurance of security to the civilians would've sufficed. But instead, you were faced with escalation. What happened?"

"I..."

At this point it is a frustrated Adario and not Vogys that reports the situation in the impoverished districts. "I'll take it from here. Guard Captain Vogys didn't adhere to the objectives of his mission. Instead of keeping order in the streets, Vogys instead diverted his manpower to destroying the source of the criminals. His men ransacked taverns, gambling halls, and other sources of vice in an attempt to clean up the slums. The "owners" of such centers of vice were backed into a corner and took drastic measures. Thus the mercenaries, the civilians, however, took part due to the "thoroughness" of Vogys's clean-up operation."

"Define thoroughness" Saber commands.

"Execution of anyone with ties to criminal organizations without trial, the confiscation of properties, and general disruption. Thus, Vogys's forces were enveloped by angry mobs and organized sellswords. Luckily I was there to prevent his death."

"I see" Saber remarks as silence settles in. She looks towards Adario while Vogys tries to hide away from Saber's sights, instead her eyes locks on to his, making the man sweat. "I'll deal with you later. Now," Saber looks towards Adario, "What of the South Market? How were you able to support Vogys despite the revolt?"

"I realized you wanted to end this revolt quickly, so I called their leaders forth to parley, and being the desperate lot that they are, they came. We discussed terms, and I promised them their freedom, and soon enough I had them following me to Bridgeton to ratify our agreement. That's when I met Araquo's forces, and our numbers against the slaves begin to even out. Both our forces enveloped them and subsequently slaughtered the slaves to the man."

Saber nods, her face betraying no emotion, "Good, but I find it unfortunate that you have broken your word for such results. Enemies from now on will fight you with more tenacity, knowing you wouldn't keep a promise."

"Oath, word, promises. They have their uses, but to be wholly devoted to those ideals will only get me killed. Forgive me, but it had to be done, and besides, this stain can be easily covered up. Dishonour can be washed away with success after all, and the results speak for themselves. With the slaves at the South Market gone, I was able to save Vogys's regiment from annihilation. Which is a fate that I assume Sallo has met."

Saber nods, "You'd be correct. Our "fellow" guard captain fell in defense of this city. His body was burnt away by fanatics."

"What of his regiment?"

"Destroyed, the few that survived will be absorbed to your regiment, I expect you to retrain and discipline them."

Adario makes a sound of affirmation as Saber briefs the three captains of the situation at hand and a course of action. Thus, you and the other captains disperse to fulfil your missions, with you doing some search and rescue while the rest are responsible for the clean-up operation. Nothing much really happens, and you spend the remainder of the day killing stragglers and directing civilians to Bridgeton.

You come back to the camp after a successful mission and see a messenger bearing news. Saber beckons him to the command tent as she enters with the messenger in tow. Naturally, you follow them. "The city is secure," you hear the messenger say, "the enemy has been routed, they've been driven out of the city. All captains are to leave their second-in-command with their regiments and return to the palace to debrief."

And thus, you march out of Bridgeton with Saber and the other captains towards Volantis's seat of power.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------

The grand palace looms ahead your procession of Officers and Captains, commoners in the land owned only by ancient noble blood. You look back to the black walls that sections off the aristocrats from the rabble of Volantis, thick two hundred feet high slabs of black stone stand tall in the city slaves. You've never had the time to appreciate the scale of this city, even the "grand" castles back in France are dwarfed by the height of this wall of ebony, manned by scores of archers and charioteers. Hell, even the fact that this city could maintain and field over ten thousand men as garrison still astounds you. You've seen bigger, of course, the Lion King's castle is measured in miles, but that was built by a god, what you see is created by men.

The towering gates to the palace open to allow you and your group entrance. You enter the esteemed "Hall of the Triarchs", though its less of a hall and more of an amphitheatre. There's a pit surrounded by steps meant for the magistrates and people of political import to sit on. On the northside of the pit is a platform with three seats of equal height, while the southside is mainly a flat path leading towards the pit. A select few captains, including Arturia and Adario, enter from the south side of the pit with the Triarchs seated overhead, looking down from their platform. The chairs the three are on is so high that their feet are not even close to the ground.

You and the rest of the captains are redirected to the main dining hall instead. You ponder on the fact that only a select few captains have the ear of the Triarchs to debrief to, which indicates some sort of hierarchy among the guard captains. This is new, you had thought that every captain had equal authority save for the head captain who is a "first among equals." You shrug, just something to look deeper into for later.

You observe the dining hall around you, noting the high ceilings and the paintings it adorns. There are many pillars fashioned to look like men carrying said pillars, they are white and made of marble. The west side of the dining hall is filled with depictions of the city's history, with one notable thing you see is the image of a tiger approaching a dark, malevolent fog. The east side of the hall has tall and imposing doors that are open and leads to the gardens. You spot the setting sun while you're looking through those doors.

You see the tables slowly getting filled in by the guard captains, and you notice some distinct groups among the captains. The general mood of the captains are celebratory though with a tinge of suspicion and unease.

There are three tables before you, one is filled by Vogys and that fool from before, Vogoros. The two are accompanied by some stoic-looking men and are having a polite and formal chat, though you do notice a tenseness within Vogoros. The other table is occupied by Araquo and some other captains with the same attire and demeanour as he, rowdy and vulgar. The final table hosts that barrel-chested man from before, what was his name again? Vera? Varar? Anyways, the rather tall man seems to be having a lively conversation with some other captains who are noticeably shorter than him.


	34. Dinner I-I

[X] Alone

\--[X] On an empty table

\---[X] Remember the events leading to your summoning here.

You observe the dining hall around you, noting the high ceilings and the paintings it adorns. Flanking you, are sculpted statues of men holding up pillars of white and marble. The west side of the dining hall has depictions of the city's history, with one notable thing you see being a painting of a tiger approaching a dark, malevolent fog. The tall and imposing doors leading to the gardens on the east side of the hall are open, allowing you to look through them. You spot the setting sun while you're looking through those doors.

You see the tables getting filled in by the guard captains and notice some distinct groups among them. The general mood is celebratory, though with a tinge of suspicion and unease.

There are three tables before you, one occupied by Vogys and that fool from before, Vogoros. The two are accompanied by some stoic men and are having a polite and formal chat, though you do notice a tenseness within Vogoros. The other table is occupied by Araquo and some other captains with the same attire and demeanour as he, rowdy and vulgar. The final table hosts that barrel-chested man from before, what was his name again? Vera? Varar? Anyways, the rather tall man seems to be having a lively conversation with some other captains who are shorter than him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You find a table sequestered away near one of the doors leading to the courtyard. A small circular table with a few chairs placed beside it, each of them decorated with the fineries expected of a chair belonging in the noblest of buildings. It is adorned by candles that light up the area, a beacon under the sunset. You sit down and wait for food to come.

In the meantime, you look out and see the sunset, the sky darkening to a bluish orange hue. You feel a sort of déjà vu when you look out, as if the setting sun prompts your mind to dig up a long-forgotten memory. Like a child nudging you for attention, this buried memory of yours is trying to make itself known. It's...actually strange, the more you think about it. You don't seem to remember several things at the moment. Right now, you could recall a scant few instants of your childhood and your time as a saint. Hell, even your moments in Chaldea are starting to blur, and that concerns and confuses you.

You concentrate on that ever-distant ball of fire, dropping down to the horizon, in an attempt to dig up this memory. Impressions and vague images sprout up in your mind, coalescing into a singular picture. A picture that had been buried under the mud of hate that is the core of what you are.

You sit atop the walls and observe the Urukian sky, counting the innumerable stars that popped up now that the sun has set. Your watch on Uruk's wall had ended, and some other servant patrols it in your place, looking out for any demonic beasts hungry enough to attack. With a hand on your cheek and your back slouched, boredom settles in as your thoughts stray. The rustling of the grass and trees makes for a relaxing ambience. You like it, you think...

Your eyes dart from star to star until it stops and stares at a singularly bright one. Your ears pick out the distant click-clack of boots on the brick that comprises this wall. The sound nears you and stops right behind you.

Tch, just when you thought you would have the night to yourself, "Look whatever it is you want to say to me, save em for tomorrow. Beat it before I turn you to ash. "

A melodious voice replies to your threat, "Now that's no way to speak to your older sister. "

You wince, heavily, in disgust. Whirling towards the source of that voice, you see the holy maiden herself sitting next to you. Your counterpart, your killer. Her amethyst eyes stare deeply into your golden ones, while her blonde hair shines under the moonlight, making yours pale in comparison. The saviour of Orléans holds a small smile while she sits next to the one that defiled it. You.

"I didn't know you to stargaze Alter, how very ignorant of me."

"I'm bored is all. I bet you thought I'd busy myself burning some trees and bushes to pass the time. "

Jeanne nods at that which prompts you to sigh.

"Yeah well, Master wouldn't allow it." you say, "Said it would anger King Gilga-"All-the-world' s-treasure-is-mine-mesh. Bah! As if he'd care if a few trees are gone, that stuck-up bitch is too busy with everything else. "

The Saint covers her mouth and chuckles, the sound of her voice grates your ears. "Wait," she says, recovering from her laughter, "did you actually ask Ritsuka if you could burn some trees? "

"No..." You deny, "I...uh...-"

"Got caught in the act?"

You cough exaggeratedly and attempt to steer the conversation someplace else. "Anyways, what are you doing here? Don't you have somebody else to bother? "You ask your counterpart, trying to hide the annoyance in your voice while her knowing smile makes it much harder to do so.

"Aww," You're too late to respond when she wraps her arm around your shoulders and pulls you close, making her cheeks crash into yours. "can't I have a moment with my sister all to myself? "

You push her off in an attempt to free yourself, but her grip tightens, and she stays adamantly atop of you. "Get off! Who do you think you are trying to get all buddy-buddy with me? ", finally you extricate yourself from Jeanne's hold and put some distance between her. "Besides," you say, "I'm you, not your sister dammit! How many times do I have to remind you of that?! "

Jeanne brings her palms up to placate your bubbling anger, "alright, alright," she says "I'll stop. Hmph, you're no fun at all. "

"And you've been around Astolfo for far too long." You say spitefully, spitting the Rider's name out as if it was poison.

"That's fair," She chuckles lightly before her expression turns serious, "but believe it or not, I'm not here just to jest." Jeanne fidgets. She's quite nervous, it's almost pathetic. "There's something...important to tell you and ask of you. You see, um... "a pause settles in as Jeanne searches for the right words to say. She hesitates.

It's a sorry sight to your eyes. For the Holy Maiden of France to be so incapable of expressing whatever it is she wants to say. If it's so urgent, she should be able to say it outright rather than beat around the bush. You're becoming increasingly unamused and tempted to shoo her away. Your eyes are getting sore just looking at her. Hell, the longer she takes, the more you wish to throw her to that demon beast ridden forest and see how long she lasts. Maybe burning her would be a good idea too. The catharsis would undoubtedly improve your already ruined night.

"Speak up," you say, crossing your arms, "You're wasting my time."

Your annoyance seems to have gotten Jeanne out of her stuttering stupor, as a sombre expression replaces her previously flustered one.

She takes a breath that's neither deep nor shallow but a breath all the same before she speaks.

"You know...since this is the Seventh Singularity, the Grand Order will end soon. Once we deal with Solomon, it's over, we all come back to the Throne of Heroes, never to see each other again unless we're summoned to fight. Well… It's made me think back on my time in Chaldea, and how fleeting this dreamlike existence is no matter how beautiful it is. The people I've met, the servants, the staff, and the masters...I love them all, and they give me so much joy in return. But now that our journey's about to finish…I look back on the things we've done as a team, and all of the goodness that we did, and yet… I still feel that there's more to do, even when the end draws near. "

"Just get to the point "You grumble. It's hard not to roll your eyes at her.

"Fine. Remember when I asked you if you could recall those peaceful days, the days before we become the saviour of Orléans? "

"How could I not? You said it right before you jabbed your lance right into me. "You say, perhaps a tad too spitefully.

"Well, those sorts of memories..." Jeanne's voice faltered.

She pauses. Another restless moment goes by as her eyes dart everywhere before finally, hesitantly, they rest upon yours. "Those sorts of memories... I want to help you make your own. "

You stare, eyes go wide, and breath halted. You struggle to process the words you've just heard. "You're not making any sense "You began to say "…the hell do you mean by that? "

"What I mean is that I want to help you create those peaceful memories here, now, while there's still time. I...I want us to be closer, is what I'm trying to say. "

"That's impossible. I'm the witch, and you're the Saint, Avenger and Ruler. We couldn't be any more different. You should know this especially. We're incompatible Jeanne. We're the antithesis to each other's beliefs, we'll never find common ground. "

"Look, when I killed you back in Orléans, my heart ached for you. To see you, an aspect of me born from hatred and to have died still hateful...it hurt, but I did my duty all the same. "She's closer now, uncomfortably close and you find two of her hands grasping one of yours. You're mildly annoyed at her presumptuousness and contemplate whether or not you'd want to listen to her piece or just walk away.

"You were born as somebody else's mirror," she continues "to validate that man's belief of us and our betrayal. And look how you acted back in Orléans, committing atrocity after atrocity for a cause you never truly believed in. An unthinking idol of a madman, never wondering why you hate. A being of instinct and anger. "You shake her hands off and walk a few steps away. The other you seem momentarily stricken before schooling her features. Your heart blazes with indignation. Who does she think she is? To pretend that she knows you and knows what's wrong with you. "Even this anger you hold is meaningless, and it's not even yours either, but still, you act like it's all you are."

"All this stupid talk of making memories" You cover your forehead with one of your palms, "and you're off with a good start. Call me less than human while you're at it, I'll be sure to remember that. "

"Look--- "

"No, you look, you hypocrite. I don't care if you feel guilt over me, I'm Gilles's mistake, not yours. And I especially don't care for this mad scheme of yours to get closer. But since your naivete has gotten the better of you, which really shouldn't surprise me, I'll make it clear to you. "You step towards her in a domineering way, but she doesn't cave-in to your threatening stance.

You begin to berate her, while pointing a finger at her to stress your point, "I hate you, I can't stand you. You forgive yo--our killers, and go about your day wishing them good health. Then you go about preaching that the voice in your head was God, so it justifies everything you did during the war. At least I don't sugar coat my actions with faith and false virtue, but embrace it. "You grab the scruff of her battle attire, and she looks on to you steadily. "And what the hell do you care about me? The only reason why you feel pity and guilt over me is that I've got the same face as you do. "Your voice is getting louder now, and you could barely hear the rustling of the grass, too focused on the sound of your own voice.

Jeanne tries to speak up "No I-"

"Don't even deny it. You said it yourself; Gilles made me based on his wishes. There's no aspect of you in me, none at all. So give your pity and your guilt, and your "love "for someone else. You're an eyesore, a pain, and I want nothing to do with you. "A pause settles in the both of you are breathing heavily.

You search her face, looking for any changes in her expression, but she still just stares at you steadily. You barely sense Nobunaga standing on the nearby rooftops by the wall, aiming her many guns at you and contemplating whether or not to shoot you. Great, more people trying to ruin your night. You hope you haven't made that loud of a commotion, it'd be troublesome to hear all about it tomorrow. You release Jeanne and Nobunaga's guns disappear, but the Warlord herself still observes your every move.

"Well..." Jeanne finally says, "I just...wanted you to live a life of more than just hatred. You know... Before it all ends. "The Saint smiles a sad smile, but no tears appear.

"I'll live this second chance of mine on my own terms." You say assertively and proceed to----

You blink as the world freezes around you, the wind stopping and the bushes cease to rustle.

Wait, you scrunch your eyebrows, munching on the Volantean dish upon your table. You could barely recall such a memory, almost as if you've forgotten it completely. Images shift and transform as if the things that you remember begin to merge into a blurry image. You concentrate, and it becomes a slight bit clearer, Jeanne's smile can barely be seen, though you notice slender rivers of blood trailing down her cheeks. This memory that you have no recollection of, this paradox, it confuses you and throws you off-balance, until---

The image transforms into a blindingly white star. Ah, you think you remember now. This hidden, unbidden memory... You lay there, fading, in Solomon's Temple. The world is a haze, just as you remember it. Barely conscious and with three jagged spears jutting out of your stomach, you lay there dying, a failure and a witch. You never noticed before but you see Jeanne at the corner of your eye. With that same damnable smile on her face.

Something happened there, something you can't recall for the life of you.

You hear that same boom from before, and the world erupts into light. Jeanne kneels next to you and prays, holding her sword to her chest and closing her eyes. The flower-shaped hilt of St.Catherine, the true, untainted one, blooms, enveloped in holy light.

You make out the contents of her prayer,

"Oh lord I entrust this body to you

The heavens tell of God's Glory  
The skies proclaim His handiwork  
Speeches poured forth during the day and knowledge during the night  
A fire has ignited within my heart and continuously burn to remind me

This is where I meet my end  
My destiny now runs its course  
My life's dream has reached its conclusion  
Utilizing the last thing I have left at my disposal  
I fight to protect the path He must walk  
Lord, accept my sacrifice.

La Pucelle"

Fire.

Unchained, unimpeded, unlimited fire.

Spreading and dancing with impunity

Roaring all around you.

It envelopes you but doesn't burn you.

It wraps around you, but doesn't consume you.

Your missing arm grows back, but you barely register it in your dazed state.

La Pucelle...she died for you. For what? Why? What did that idiot seek to do? She should've left you to die.

This particular memory ends with you entering oblivion, as you close your eyes for what you thought would be for the last time.


	35. Dinner I-II

X] Sįft through more of your memories, what else is hidden inside your head? (Chances of being interrupted by one of the captains)  
-[X] The shy goddess

La Pucelle...she died for you. For what? Why? What did that idiot seek to do? She should've left you to die.

This particular memory ends with you entering oblivion, as you close your eyes for what you thought would be for the last time.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

You feel a sort of tightness in your chest as you stare blankly into your food, an assortment of prawns, crabs, and fish flanked by leafy vegetables. With golden cutlery in hand, you stab at your dinner with more force than you intended, the claws of the crab crumble under your assault while the prawns look onwards with petrified fear. Or at least with as much fear a cooked corpse can show.

The silly image brings about a subtle smirk, a small escape from the thoughts in your head that roil like stormy seas. As always, your moment of respite crumbles in no time, just when you were about to taste a sliver of what others call, "peace of mind". Instead, reality chokes it out of you, until the very word "peace" is retched out of your throat, leaving only a burning, bitter taste that stays and never goes.

Now you're left with two companions, confusion and frustration, the latter a byproduct of the former, caused by a revelation from a missing memory (which in it of itself has uncomfortable implications) that create important questions without giving the clues to its answers.

Questions like, "Why did the other you save you? How would it even be possible? La Pucelle is a potent Noble Phantasm, but surely there must be limits?"

"Did she still think you were redeemable after all that happened back in Uruk? She can't be that idiotic or naive! Can she?"

"ughh, why can't you find the answers to questions that are literally about you? How dense are you?"

Before you could spiral downwards into madness, the boisterous laugh of a certain Araquo pulls you out of the vortex of thoughts. You look to see him standing atop a table as if this sacred hall was some tavern. The stiffer captains, the ones with Vogoros, seem to be visibly disgusted by this unsavoury display, all the while Araquo's fellow captains lean towards him, entranced by his story and theatricality.

You listen carefully to his next words.

"- And the bloody pricks stabbed themselves the moment we took the guard tower. The ones that didn't have blades... well they jumped onto the nearest sharp point they could find, pitchforks, our spears, and some other. And let me tell you, the mess they made was something like the Elephant stables after a romp. See its not the sweat and baby-batter that makes up the mess, but the thrashing about. Walls gets cracked, the roof crumbles, their food gets stepped on."

"So like your bedroom after a night with that Hyrkoon girl of yours," one of the captains around Araquo remarks, followed by bouts of laughter.

Araquo shoots back with feigned anger. "And you keep your mouth shut Virys! I can still smell your wife's arse every time you open it."

"You calling me an asskisser?" The captain replies with a single eyebrow raised.

"Do you kiss what you eat?" followed by a loud back and forth of friendly jabs that you tune out of.

………………hm

You're starting to regret listening in honestly…really didn't need to hear all of that.

Though looking (rather than hearing) the scene before you tug something at the recesses of your mind. There's a familiarity to it, this camaraderie between soldiers that cares not for the opinion of others. It reminds you of a scene in Chaldea, and slowly a memory crystallizes lattice by lattice. Though this scene isn't the focus of this particular memory, its what came after that scene that's important to you.

Sat at the corner booth of Chaldea's cafeteria turned restaurant is you. Sipping the scalding coffee in your hands without a break and stewing at a perceived offence that had occurred earlier. Some third-rate servant had the gall to interrupt your rampage in a minor singularity, said that you were out of control. You very much wanted to kill the offender where he stood, but you didn't. You restrain yourself from killing him, for you would die a mad dog's death if you did. Hunted and chased after until your every atom is obliterated. That's something you can't let happen. It'd make every effort that brought you here mean nothing, a waste. You didn't crawl back into existence only to die the same way you did in Orleans, a mad dog without a leash. No, you're here because you desire to be something better, to be superior. So you stay your hand and brood, watching the other servants passively, all the while the fire in your heart burns.

One scene reels your attention in by the noise created. At one of the circular tables of the "restaurant" is Arturia's band of knights. Gawain, that blonde gorilla, sits next to Tristan, listening to the latter's story of his time before serving under Arturia.

Speaking of Arturia, the King of Knights herself sits across Gawain and holds a subtle smile. She regales to an increasingly embarrassed Bedivere her thanks and compliments for his part in that troublesome Camelot Singularity. Mordred, on the other hand, sits awkwardly and diminutively beside Arturia, contributing a word or two in the King and her white-haired knight's conversation. You note how unnerving it is to see that boastful knight reduced into this shy wallflower of a girl, especially in the presence of her...father? Mother? You can't be bothered.

Strangely enough, you don't see Lancelot among them. Perhaps he's busy skirt-chasing in the halls----

"Hey"

Wait, no, that can't be it. You've heard through the grapevine that Paracelsus was working towards eliminating Lancelot's mad enhancement, maybe even change his class. Good for him, if it works out.

"um...Hello?"

You've never met the caster personally, but you have heard of his achievements. If there's anyone able to fix Lancelot's dilemma, it'd be h---

"Excuse me!"

A grimace mars your face as you look up to the loud woman in-front of you. Rivers of golden hair cascades down to her ankles. Piercing crimson eyes scrutinize you with authority as you feel the weight of its stare.

The Goddess of Death herself, the prideful mistress of the underworld, demands your attention. With a pout and her hands at her hips, Ereshkigal looms over you with a frosty stare.

"You were talking to me?" You ask

"Who else was I talking to!?"

That petulant voice of hers grates your ears, destroying the aura of authority that she effortlessly emanated. You glance left and right to see that there's no one near you and your booth.

"Oh...well, Saying my name would've sufficed." You say, neutrally.

Ereshkigal huffs at that, "It's not my fault you zoned-out."

You are definitely not in the mood for whatever this goddess is doing. You bring your palm to your temple to massage it and restrain yourself from outright whacking Ereshkigal.

"I don't have time for this, say what you want and go bother someone else." You say.

"What I want?" she says with surprise on her face. Almost like she didn't expect you to say that.

"Did I stutter?" you reply

"An apology."

"What?" Apology for what? You've barely seen the goddess at all, what kind of offence could you have possibly committed against her?

"Sorry, did I stutter?" sarcasm oozes out of her voice as she crosses her arms, "I said, I want an apology."

You really, really want to just go over your table and whack her, the smugness is unbearable. It's a shame there are other servants here, you'd gladly slap that prim face of hers without reservation.

"An apology for what?" You say with gritted teeth

"Oh I don't know, maybe leaving me to die could be one thing to apologize for, you inconsiderate fool." Ereshkigal brings a hand to her head in exasperation, "Running off to fight Ibaraki, disobeying explicit orders, leaving me to fight off an army of Onis... You're like a glory-hound who doesn't listen." The goddess lectured.

Ah yes, that mess in Rashomon a day or two ago. That was one of the more fun singularities. Just you and something to burn, and a good fight too. You have fond memories of bringing down Ibaraki, it's a shame you were stopped before you could deal the final blow.

You half-remember abandoning Ereshkigal too, which was something your master had given you a slap on the wrist for, but nothing more.

"You survived at least, so I don't see what you're crying about," you say

"Crying!?" Ereshkigal's face becomes a scandalized red.

"Besides, shouldn't a goddess like you be able to take down an army? Your kind has always been so boastful about your godly powers that you practically never shut up about. Was it all lies then? A front for your ego?"

"My strengths are not what's in question here, witch. It is merely that my pride as a goddess won't let you get away from committing such a thing again! If you don't see what's wrong with leaving a partner behind and apologize, you're no better than a mad dog."

Now that gets you to stand up. You smash your hands on your table as you ascend and lean towards her. Speaking with gritted teeth you say, "You can call me anything you'd like, but a dog isn't one of them." You give her a deadly glare as your eyes lock into hers as a battle of wills begins.

"And what will you do exactly? Cut me to bits? Feed me to Fou? You think I don't know that Chaldea keeps you on a short leash, Jeanne? Besides if you don't see the error in your ways and apologize - actually no, just apologizing isn't enough. If you don't grovel on the floor and beg for forgiveness, then it's a leash well deserved, dog."

Now all you see is red, and your skin burns hotly as the fire in you threaten to escape and devour. Your right hand seeks St.Catherine's handle as the sword itself readies to be summoned by you.

"Cut it out you two, that's enough" EMIYA sternly says as he approaches the two of you, "You're disturbing everyone."

You breathe slows as the world morphs to its original colour. You look around to see many servants stare at you, ready for a fight to break out. Arturia and her knights stare at you too, their hands reaching for their weapons.

You want to fight them, burn them all if you can. But it wouldn't be worth it now, would it?

"Tch." You say as you shove past Ereshkigal and walk into the hallways.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Slash! Srrrinngggg!

Ghostly apparition after ghostly apparition dissipates as St.Catherine cleaves them to bits. Meanwhile, you let loose wild flames unto groups of wraiths, cleansing the area around the cathedral that you stand on top of. You jump down to the street and kill the final ghost as the town becomes bereft of the moans and groans of the undead.

You breathe in, taking in the air as the moon reaches its zenith. There's this cathartic feeling of a job well done and the act of mowing down enemies. Doing this has dulled the potency of your anger as you feel a sort of release.

You look around and note the empty streets and the abandoned carts still storing goods. Bourges... this town was once called, a bustling centre of trade that situated south of Orlèans. Now there's no one alive to speak its name, not even the guards, the shopkeepers, the priests, the women, and even the children. All of them turned to ash during the advent of wyverns and the great dragon. Your dragon. Your Fafnir.

Their blood and the blood of many more stain your sickly pale hands. Orléans, Paris, Vaucouleurs, La Charité, Lyon, Thiers...each and every one burnt and defiled by you. A mountain of corpses for each city.

No...no that's not right, your hands are clean is it not? They're not the same hands that perpetrated these massacres. The version of you that conquered France was someone else entirely, someone whose memories and mannerisms you've inherited.

The you that was wished into existence by Gilles is different from the present you. Her wishes were Gilles's wishes, her hatred was his hatred too. Now you're free, and like a cockroach, you refuse oblivion and encroached the Throne of Heroes to carve out an existence for yourself. Now your wish is your own to make, but the hate that drives you shackles you still. There's still Gilles's mark within you, and it cannot be undone.

But... You're different, in every sense of the word. Yet despite that, despite being reborn and given new purpose.....

You halt that train of thought.

You redirect your focus on purging the inhabitants of Bourges yet again. The irony doesn't escape you, history doesn't repeat, but it rhymes. Now undead, the ghostly forms of the inhabitants are anchored into the world by their own anger and despair. Shackled.

You're not sure why you do this, purging French city after French city of the ghosts you've created. The French singularity is slowly being repaired, made evident to you by the structures that had suddenly been rebuilt. Da Vinci and the director knows what they're doing, and they're effective. What you're doing isn't helping them in any major way. You doubt a few wraiths here and there would disrupt the repair process, so you're not doing this to be of use to Chaldea right?

Is it for atonement? You're not sure.

Duty then...you purge the wraiths because it is your duty... No, that's not right either. Whatever it is, you feel that you'll find the answer once every ghost in France is abolished.

A single skeletal finger rises out of the ground, creating huge cracks in the brick road. Before you could process it, a massive weight wraps around you and constricts your arms and legs. You don't bother to look back to see your assailant for you know what they are.

You will four black spears into existence, they hover over you before descending onto the hand that holds you. The spears shatters the arm and you are set free. You turn around with St.Catherine in hand just in time to block a slash from one of the ghost's arms and dodge a jab from another.

Now that you're facing it, you have a clear view of your enemy. A single floating torso with four arms and a lack of legs. Skulls fill the ribcages, as a veil covers its giant head. Massive Ghosts, this enemy is creatively called. Troublesome for a group of servants, lethal against one.

But you're Jeanne D'arc, and your legend spreads far and wide. This fact makes you stronger than a single average servant, so you're confident you can defeat this ghost.

You close your hand into a fist and will your fire into existence. The ghost is engulfed in a pillar of scorching flames, but you doubt it was a lethal strike. Meanwhile, you hop onto one of the roofs and ready yourself to launch at the enemy. You form several black spears behind you as you begin to run, they follow you as you charge. The fire dissipates, and the ghost turns towards you and slashes the air, creating sharp gusts of winds that you've seen amputate limbs.

You weather the attack and keep running as your armour is scratched in every place. You reach the edge of a roof and jump. Your sudden ascent breaks the brick tiles as you poise to impale with St.Catherine.

The ghost attempts to grasp you midair, but your spears intercept the three remaining arms. You fall onto it with impunity. You plant St.Catherine onto its head and use the blade as a conduit for your flames. Fire fills its entire skull and melts some part of it as the alabaster bone dissolves under the extreme heat. It doesn't thrash in pain as it doesn't feel pain at all, and before you could melt its head fully, an arms grabs you and throws you away. You were simply too slow.

You crash through building after building, brick and wood impacts your back repeatedly. You gain back your footing shortly and dash out of the debris to spot the ghost some blocks ahead of you. It detects you and slashes at the air again, but this time the sharp winds don't hit you. You've dodged out of the way and onto the rooftops. Continuing to evade its attacks by hopping from roof to roof.

The ghost brings its three hands together and does...something, you can't really tell, all you see are the black circles formed at each of its palms. But suddenly you feel fatigued, weakened even. As if you're unable to do half the things your powers allow you to do. You've slowed down severely, and you're assaulted by the ghost's wind attacks, chipping away at your armour and cutting into your skin. Blood drips down from your forehead to your eye as you see the Massive Ghost hover closer to you.

The ghost raises it's remaining arms up to slash at you. The arms descend, but before it strikes you, two skeletal heads rise suddenly from the ground and chomps at the ghost. From what you could surmise, the skeletal heads seem to resemble the skulls of dinosaurs. One head bites the Massive Ghost's right shoulder while another bites the ghost's skull. Their teeth find a foothold and both ancient beasts pull against one another as the ghost is ripped in half. Bones fly as the gargantuan spirit is split into two. The beastly pair descend into the ground and disappears.

Silence reigns and the city is quiet again. The bones dissipate into dust, and the only reminder of the fight was the ruined buildings surrounding you.

You hear the click-clack of boots and look back to see that smug goddess again. Ereshkigal is dressed in her usual black gown decorated with golden linings and golden skulls. In her hand is that disproportionate double-sided monstrosity of a glaive, with one end painted predominantly white and the other painted black.

"My my," She says, "I believe you owe me more than an apology."

You stand up and wipe off the blood off your brow, "I owe you shit." You respond between breaths.

Ereshkigal frowns at that," the ingratitude...".

"How'd you find me here, anyway? Did Davinci tell you?"

Ereshkigal shakes her head, "You weren't anywhere in Chaldea, so I supposed you were in one of the singularities. Considering your origins, it was an obvious choice." She shrugs.

Ereshkigal crosses her arms and sighs, "Listen... about last week..."

"What about last week?" you spit out.

She shakes her head then opens and closes her mouth as she struggles to speak, as if choking on the very words that threaten to leave her mouth. "I...have wronged you, as I conducted myself in ways ill befitting of a goddess. I had a legitimate grievance with you but... confronting you like that was not the ideal way of handling it. Thus I am obliged to ask if you can forgive me."

"Oh? And what has made you seen the error of your ways?"

"EMIYA, he gave me quite the lecture after our...talk... And considering he has intimate knowledge of this human vessel that I possess, a lot of his words rang true. I didn't believe him at first, but after a few days of back and forth, I realize I was in the wrong. Which explains me being here, apologizing to you."

"You think I'll accept an apology from a stuck up bitch like you?" You scoff and then ask, "How far up your ass was that silver spoon of yours to create an outburst like that?"

"I believe it was you that had an outburst, but I digress. To answer your question, it is because I'm a goddess." She begins to lecture, "And a goddess has to look after her image. If she doesn't, she will gain no one to worship her, and without worshippers, a goddess cannot be called a god at all. Any insult to me must be dealt with swiftly and completely so so as to maintain my image, and your abandoning of me was very insulting indeed. My pride would not have allowed it to stand unpunished, you understand? That's why I went off on you like that."

You scoff at that, "You're even more deranged than I am then. You won't find worship here in Chaldea, so just stop this facade of godhood or whatever you want to call it."

She speaks slowly, as if it pains her to say each word, "Yes, I'm beginning to realize the futility of finding worshipers." she admits, which is unusual to you. You did not expect her to concede to your point. "We're equals now, as much as I don't want to admit it. Looking down on you and the others is not...conducive to having me fit in Chaldea. A fact which EMIYA has made very clear to me." her eyes move down as her air of haughtiness diminishes, "I'm one of the new arrivals if you haven't noticed, so I've been trying to break out of these old habits I once had. Plus, this vessel's personality has mixed with mine, and it has created...difficulties."

"A goddess who can't adapt well? What else is new? And you chose to possess this vessel, didn't you? Then you don't have the right to complain." Ereshkigal frowns at that, her cheeks reddening, "besides, bring up your troubles to EMIYA, not me. I can't give two shits on the issues that made you a bitch. And no, I won't accept your apology because EMIYA told you so. So go." You make a shooing motion with your hand.

"Then how can I get you to forgive me."

That...throws you off quite a bit. Resorting to begging now isn't she? You're not sure if she's genuinely guilty or if it's because of something else. Maybe there's something you're not getting here? It could just be due to embarrassment, you posit, you'd feel mighty ashamed if you acted as petulantly as she did yesterday. So maybe she's finding closure in that shameful episode by apologizing to you. It could be something else entirely... All-in-all...you don't get it. So you respond in the best way you know how.

"You can grovel and eat dirt. I'll forgive you after that."

Ereshkigal's face fumes at your request, "Listen here you ingrate! I'm trying to-" Ah, that's the Ereshkigal you know...She takes a sudden breath, silence reigns in until the Queen of Irkalla continues to speak, "Maybe I can I do you a favour." She says with gritted teeth, swallowing her pride and speaking each word with difficulty, "Have me do something to earn your forgiveness."

Pardon...?

You raise an eyebrow, contemplating on what she just said. You open your mouth to reply, but she cuts you off.

"The favour of a goddess is not something you should spend gratuitously."

You frown at that. Even when the goddess herself is apologizing she still finds a way to make it seem like a high honour...how entitled, "What's it to you if I accept your apology. Just go. We can forget all about this."

"It's because I've made a mistake and wronged you without a proper reason. So I'm compelled to make it right."

"That's remarkably childish coming from a god." You're starting to get annoyed by her persistence. What a futile thing to do, to get an Avenger to forgive is to go against their very nature. You cross your arms and attempt to get her off your case, "look, we've wronged each other for stupid reasons, right? That should make us even, no need to owe favours for each other."

"No, that makes us equally wrong." You bring your palm to your face in exasperation. What's the deal with her anyway?! This is a total hundred-and-eighty degree turn in personality, but despite that she's still unbearable to talk to. "Don't misunderstand, I'm not being altruistic Jeanne, I absolutely expect you to apologize in return." She explains "Oh!" She seems to have an epiphany. "Maybe I can assist you as a form of an apology."

"Assist me in what?"

"In purging the ghosts. That is what you're doing right?"

Immediately you reply, "No."

"No?"

"It's my duty, and no one else's. Only I'm responsible for these ghosts."

"Uh-uh, and you seem to have it all under control, don't you? I'm sure that massive ghost was no more than a nuisance." You flush a beet red, she continues, "How many cities have you purged so far?"

"two, Bourges and Lyon."

"And when did you start this campaign of yours?" she drawls.

"A few weeks back."

Ereshkigal shakes her head, "tsk, tsk. By the time you finish, Solomon would be long gone, and all the singularities would be fixed by then. "

You grimace, "I-" She interrupts you, fully expecting what you were going to say.

"Yes-yes, it's a deep and personal journey in which you don't truly know the reason why you've embarked it. But you're sure that the answer lies at the end of said journey." She speaks in a bored tone, "Look, I will not interfere in your search, or take over your duties. It's obvious from your face that you're afraid that I might take away that answer by doing the work for you. I will not. I'm assisting to expedite the process, not babysit you all the way. "

"Tch, all of this for an apology?"

"It's a matter of principle. Now I believe you owe me a favour of your own too?"

You narrow your eyes, "I'll do what you'll ask for if it's within reason. If you're gonna force me to get your help, then whatever. But don't think I'll be in your debt for this. I'll only return a favour for a favour, but that's it."

"Good, I'm glad we have an understanding." She nods her head, "Now, I'm going to need your help on something, a conquest of my own you can say. A delicate one too, since it pertains to the matter of the heart."

"the heart?" You're not too sure where this is going.

Ereshkigal closes the distance between you and her. She smiles a small smile, "You're going to help me win Ritsuka's heart."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey" Araquo's voice brings you out of your stupor. The man brings out what he thinks to be his most dashing smile as he drags a chair towards your table. He smells of alcohol and sweat. This is...quite the annoyance. "What's our hero doing here in her lonesome?"

"Reminiscing." You say neutrally, Araquo raises an eyebrow, so you try to steer the conversation somewhere else before he asks any unfortunate questions "and indulging myself in this feast."

Araquo leans a bit towards you on his chair, "Well if anyone deserves rests its most certainly you." He bows his head "My lady" He sure is laying it a bit thick now, isn't he? You're not sure how to respond to such blatant...um...whatever this is called. It's not like you have a dearth of experience to draw upon and your memory's been a bit unreliable...maybe you should ask Saber about it? Actually no, that'd be a bad idea.

"Didn't I tell you to call me Jeanne? I'm no lady in any sense of the word," you say with some small amount of irritation. You attempt to contemplate ways to shoo him without acting brutish or overly violent, only to come up with nothing. You're not really good with the subtleties of civil conversation you realize.

You really wish you could conjure up some fire, say your usual lines, and shoo him away, but that'd make an enemy out of Saber you think. Scaring her officers with magic would earn you more than empty threats, if not a fight. Tch, that bitch has so many intricate schemes that anything you'd want to do would make them fall apart. Then she'll get all rankled and maybe kill you out of spite. Well, she could try anyway, but with Lera recovering you don't think it's wise to fight her now. You've resolved to not get Lera killed or enslaved, and if you do die (though minuscule a chance), then that's it for her. Besides, she's proven her use so far.

Tch, since when did you become so restrained! You've got Lera's wellbeing to keep in mind coupled with whatever that stupid bitch Arturia wants you to do, or not do. Hell, that's not even counting the fact that there might be dangerous servants in the midst and that you've got a Grail to find!

You long for the simpler times when there was a clear enemy to burn. Either in Orleans or the other singularities, your resolve was never clouded nor doubted. You knew what to do, and you did them well. Now you feel like some lost pup dragged around by a tidal wave of complications that you'd rather burn away, it'd be easy to do so.

But that sort of thing, isn't really you, not anymore. You're better now.

"Ah, tis a shame for a woman such as you to not be able to find the beauty within one's self". Ughhh, and then there's this man to deal with. You're left a bit off balance and at a loss of what to say...Should you outright tell him off or would that only embolden him? He seems like that kind of man, you think. You don't really know, most of the men you were close with back in Chaldea were either mad or insane. Well, if worse comes to worst, there's always fire. Damn what Saber thinks.

You're about to open your mouth to tell him off, but Araquo's companions appear behind him.

"Araquo, stop bothering the lass. Wasn't this the same woman that dragged you by the hair?" You look to the one who said it, a stocky man with rough sandpaper-like skin, and an old deep scar across his right cheek. The cut probably comes from his chin considering how sharp it is, you muse sarcastically, or the pointed nose. He looks at you with judging stoic eyes that size you up from head-to-toe. He speaks to you with a voice that is guttural and gravelly, which brings with it a sort of intensity. "Forgive Araquo for his persistence lass, he is hopeless when it comes to dangerous women. "The man looks back to Araquo with an amused smirk, "And especially when he's drunk.". You recognize some kind of accent in his voice, an accent that is somewhere between Italian and Spanish.

"I see," you reply.

The man speaks again, "So you're this Jeanne I've heard about?". You nod. "From the way Araquo described you, I had expected someone utterly divine."

divine...what a disgusting word that is, "Sorry to disappoint." You say.

"Oh, on the contrary, you've exceeded my expectations. You're better looking than all the nobles in this forsaken place. But can you fight as well as Araquo described I wonder? I can only suspend my disbelief for so long."

Another man within the group speaks up, "Challenging her to a fight before introducing yourself? You sure work fast."

The scarred man's eyes widen at that, "my apologies," he brings a hand to his chest and slightly bows his head towards you," Jaedar, a pleasure." Well, at least he has some semblance of manners.

You nod back, "Jeanne, just Jeanne. Not lady, madam, nor ma'am. Which is a fact our dear friend Araquo seemed to have forgotten."

That rouses a small chuckle from the men around him as Araquo's eyes widen. The man speaks again with a smirk, "Araquo is not known for his memory..." His eyes scrunch, as if searching for the words to say, "Forgive me but... if I may ask, how long have you and the boy captain have known each other?"

"Too long." you reply vaguely.

That rouses even more chuckles. "Aye," Jaedar says, "the lad can be overwhelming. An odd thing considering he can't be no older than eighteen summers. He is eighteen isn't he? Not sixteen, fourteen, or gods forbid twelve?"

You nod, "Something like that. He's definitely older than sixteen, why do you ask?"

"Well, it embarrasses men like us when boys like him show us up. It's a relief to know that he isn't a mere child."

Araquo speaks up, "It's strange isn't it? How'd a boy like him get so strong and smart too? One day it was that hard prick Adario who was this garrison's star, then comes this yellow-eyed blue-blooded prick that Maegyr hired from fuck all. We thought he was employed because Maegyr was some cradle-snatching boy-lover, and dressed the lad up in full Targaryen black. We thought the kid was the type to piss his breeches when a real battle starts, well... till he started swinging his sword around."

"Araquo," Jaedar admonishes, "You shouldn't speak like that, not here."

, "Right," Araquo replies, barely giving Jaedar any attention, " so what is he to you anyway? Ye ain't lovers, are you?"

You spit your crab onto the dish out of shock and the sheer disgust of the thought. Jaedar puts his hand on Araquo's shoulder, "Have you no tact? Maybe we should bring you outside to sober up. Araquo." He gives Araquo's shoulder a squeeze.

The men around them chuckle at your reaction, but you do get some curious stares. Best not to leave their curiosity unfulfilled, lest they try to find answers themselves.

"We're cousins." You say, after schooling your features.

"Huh." Araquo says neutrally, "I see, you're from a noble family I take it?"

"My mother was, but not my father, he was a travelling bard."

"Bard?" One of the other men comments, "Sounds like a Westorosi or Free Cities thing."

"Anyways, I was the product of that relationship. Arturia's mother, my aunt, on the other hand, married a noble. And as cousins, we never had an easy relationship, but we're still bound by blood. That's all, the end. Hope that satisfies you all."

Araquo nods and before he speaks, Saber herself comes into the dining hall with Adario in tow. Every captain in the hall stand to salute as Saber emanates authority with her piercing gaze. "Captains," She says, "you are to follow Ardario, he will take you to the Triarchs who will assign you all new orders. Now go."

Araquo stumbles a bit until Jaedar supports him out of the dining hall. The rest of Araquo's group leaves with the two, so does Vogoros's group and Va..Ve..the barrel-chested man's group. They leave the dining hall in a quick pace.

Saber doesn't follow them; instead, she comes to you, "Jeanne, with me." she asks. You follow her out to the gardens.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Saber stop in a gazebo in the middle of the gardens, surrounded by an assortment of Yellow Carnations, blooming red Amaryllises, and orange Dahlias. There are pathways made of brick and gravel that wanders and intertwines. The gazebo you and Saber occupy is decorated by carved patterns on the roof and hanging vines.

"What's the matter?" You ask Saber.

Saber stares out onto the garden and answers, "The situation has changed."

"Of course the situation's changed. There was a bloody revolt." You say sarcastically.

"It's more than that, you idiot." she replies, "Did you not think it strange that the Triarchs ordered the captains here in haste? Word has reached their ears of chaos in the north, and it's got them panicking. A Dothraki Khalasar had splintered into bits, and now we've got upstart Khals north of the Volaena river."

Oh, that explains why you were all summoned here. But it pisses you off that you didn't have enough time to root out the cultists more thoroughly. They have been defeated, yes, but not annihilated, which dissatisfies you greatly. You can see why they prioritized the Dothraki threat now that the cultists are practically defeated. But Saber did say that it was a splintered Khalasar, so would it be that much of a threat? Wait...a splintered Khalasar north of the Volaena river...it tugs at your memory.

"Did they tell you which Dothraki Khalasar splintered?" You ask with increasing weariness.

"Yes, it was Forzo's Khalasar that shattered, I believe."

You grimace, Lera was right all along. Having his son at your mercy, forcing yourself onto his home, and crippling him had made him seem weak. From what you've gathered on the Dothraki, the only thing they'll believe is that "might makes right". Thus, Forzo's Khalasar ended the moment you humiliated him and took down his retinue. You made him seem weak, and the weak cannot lead the Dothraki. Now there's only chaos, until someone strong among them takes charge.

You wonder of Forzo's fate, and the fate of his family and that dear friend of his. Will his first wife and son suffer the same fate Lera had?

"I encountered Forzo the day I was summoned here," you tell Saber. She looks back to you with a raised eyebrow, and you continue, "He wanted me in his bed, very insistent about it too, so I crippled him."

Both of Arturia's eyes widen a bit at that, "I'm sure you did more than just cripple." She states. Tch, you hate it when she's perceptive...you wanted to avoid explaining what happened after you crippled him.

"I did." You say vaguely, hoping that she doesn't inquire any further.

"I see...That's where you found Lera too then? She was a slave to the Dothraki?" You nod, "We'll have to keep this to ourselves then, or the Triarchs will be out for your blood." Out for your blood? But you just saved this city!

"What do you mean?" You ask

"Forzo's Khalasar was a better alternative than a dozen smaller ones. Less chaos, better for business. Not only that, one of these remnants have been reported to be riding south of the Volaena. The revolt has made Volantis...disorganized, they will look for desperate options to appease the roaming Khalasar. You'll be caught up in this city's politics the moment they figure out what you did. The two Triarchs of the Elephant party will sell you out to appease the remnant while Maegyr will find a way to permanently recruit you, willingly or not."

"You think he can coerce me into joining? " You ask, "In fact, how'd you know how the other Triarchs will act? I thought you were only associated with Maegyr."

"I don't think Maegyr's able to coerce you but the man's creative and ambitious. He'll find ways to be a thorn on our side. As for the others, well, I've seen them quarrel enough to gauge their characters."

"And what of the Dothraki remnant? How imminent are they?"

"They're not an immediate threat, being at least a week away, but a large one all the same, especially with Volantis in disarray. Once word spreads of the revolt, whoever this new Khal is might leap onto the opportunity to sack this city with impunity."

"It's distressing, but with you as the commander and I the force multiplier, we'd be able to save this city from being totally destroyed, I'm sure of it. Though with the state this city is in now, there might be heavy losses on our side."

Saber shakes her head, " Ignore the wellbeing of Volantis, that's a distraction. Our main objective is finding the Grail, which if the Alter Ego is to be believed, is in Westeros. Involving ourselves in the entanglements of this world's politics would only slow us down. Now that I'm able to afford the journey west, I believe it's time to leave now. Oh, and do not worry about your translator's injuries, I have and can make arrangements for her."

"You did? That's good, and you're right, we have to find the Grail first and foremost. Everything else is secondary, besides this world would be reset when we fix this singularity anyway, or whatever it is now."

Saber smirks at that, "Good, but I wouldn't be too sure of resetting this world's state, this has been an unusual Grail War after all. Now come, we have things to discuss."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You're back in your room now, glancing at Lera's sleeping form. You saw the stitches running down her abdomen and feel a modicum sense of relief. The healers must've stopped the bleeding that may have come from a ruptured spleen or somesuch, and her stable breath indicates to you her good health. How lucky, it must be the armour you bought her that saved her life, now your only worry is a possible infection.

The room is silent, the fountain now empty of water, since whatever intricate system that maintained the flow of water in the third floor has stopped working. You look out to the balcony to see the moon at its zenith, but you don't stare at it for long. Your eyes, whether consciously or not, dart from left to right in search of that...thing you saw earlier. You wonder if it were some form of projection of a servant, or worse something else. Whatever it is, that being you saw must have some connection to the cultists. Maybe it has the ability to erode the sanity of others? You don't really know, and you stop speculating further.

Your mind brings you back to what Saber had told you after your talk in the Gazebo. There's a ship heading to Westeros that leaves in three days, stopping at Lys before arriving in Sunspear. Saber has already informed the Triarchs of her resignation with Adario as her successor. Thus, the Tyrant will take that ship to head west, with or without you. But to leave the city at the brink of invasion?....

Would the city still stand without two servants to protect it? You're sure that with Volantis trying to rebuild, it has become vulnerable to the Dothraki horde. But the defences and fortification have stood the test of time. You saw with your own eyes the massive black walls, the size of the garrison, and an entire district made only for the said garrison. Thus, it's not like you're sealing Volantis's fate to the horde now, are you? It could be that the Triarchs could also negotiate a truce with the Dothraki and stave off an invasion all-together.

Volantis's fate, you conclude, can go either way without your intervention, but you can never be sure.

The Grail, on the other hand. The artefact needs to be secured and within safe Chaldean hands. You've seen how a Grail can be used in a singularity, hell you've even used one yourself. From summoning dragons to remaking the landscape, Solomon's Grail is a doorway to infinite possibilities to the one that holds it. And as a Chaldean servant, the faster you get the Grail, the better.

Though there is this thought that nags you at the back of your mind. A thought that tempts you to use the Grail for your own purposes. That there is no Chaldea here to shackle you and kill you...

You shake your head, and look out into the balcony.

What to do...

**Author's Note:**

> So starts my first-ever Quest!
> 
> Since this is a character-driven quest made in the same vein as Flandre's Quest, there won't be much RPG elements to it other than a few dice rolls here and there. This quest will focus mainly on Jeanne Alter's adventure in Planetos, and player decisions will determine if Jalter continues being the vengeful villain that she is or becomes the holy saint that she was. Or maybe something else? Hopefully, this quest ends with Jeanne getting the Grail and ending this "singularity", but that depends on the players now doesn't it?


End file.
